


At Night

by sneetchstar



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Multi, poly vampires because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9596570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneetchstar/pseuds/sneetchstar
Summary: Guinevere's two best friends have a dark secret they wish to share with her...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No longer a one-shot...

_Guinevere met Arthur and Merlin shortly after graduation. Morgana dragged her to a club to celebrate both her new job at a prestigious fashion magazine and Guinevere getting her novel accepted by a moderate-sized publishing house._

_As Gwen expected, Morgana was chatted up almost immediately by a tall, handsome stranger with curly hair and a bashful smile, leaving her alone at their small table, watching them gyrate on the dance floor._

_She really didn’t mind; she has always been content to sit in the shadows and watch her best friend shine in the limelight._

_Arthur decided to approach her while Morgana and her beau were starting their third song. A slow one._

_“It seems your friend has abandoned you.” His smooth baritone voice in her ear both startled her and made her warm all over._

_She turned and looked up into the most beautiful male face she had ever seen. “Oh… I… I don’t mind,” she dumbly answered after a second of gaping._

_“You are far too beautiful to be hidden away in the corner like this,” he said, offering his hand. “Dance with me.”_

_Guinevere blinked. He wasn’t asking, but somehow she knew he would not be upset if she refused. Her hand moved before she realized she had made her decision, coming to rest comfortably in his._

_The smile he gave her then took her breath away._

_“What is your name?” he asked once they were on the dance floor. He held her right hand in his left with his right hand on her waist, dancing relatively formally in the sea of couples grinding together. His embrace was warm and reassuringly strong._

_“Guinevere. Most people call me Gwen,” she answered, leaning forward a bit so he could hear her._

_“Guinevere,” he repeated, causing that warmth to course over her again. “I’m Arthur.”_

_She smiled. “So, Arthur, what do you do?”_

_“Oh, this and that,” he noncommittally answered. “I dabble in several different business ventures. Do some consulting.”_

_“How very vague of you,” she replied._

_“Thank you,” he countered, not bothered in the slightest by her barb. In fact, it seemed to encourage him, because he pulled her closer. “You smell divine,” he said. “Almost good enough to eat.”_

_She blinked again, surprised, then decided to pretend he didn’t just say that. “I’m a writer,” she volunteered, cursing the slight quaver in her voice._

_“What do you write?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested._

_“I just had my first novel accepted for publishing,” she answered. “Morgana and I – that’s my friend, Morgana – are supposed to be celebrating.”_

_“Oh, she’s celebrating all right,” Arthur commented, turning them so she could see Morgana and her man quite busily making out while they thought they were still dancing._

_Guinevere sighed. “She just met him tonight.”_

_“That’s Leon. He’s a good bloke,” he informed._

_“You know him?” She paused. “That was a dumb question.”_

_He laughed, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yes, I know him. He’s in Marketing at Albion Corp.”_

_“One of your business ventures?”_

_“I work with them from time to time, yes,” he answered. Then he leaned in closer and said, “I also own half this club.”_

_“Is that supposed to impress me?” she countered. The music changed back to a fast song, so he led her from the dance floor. Instead of going back to her table, they went through a door into a private room._

_“It’s much quieter here,” he explained. “And don’t worry, I’ve no plans to defile you. Not against your will, anyway,” he added with a wink._

_Her eyes widened, but she could not shake the feeling that she could trust him. “Okay,” she finally replied._

_“No,” he said, pulling a chair out for her._

_“No?”_

_“No, my part-ownership of this club is not supposed to impress you,” he clarified, sitting beside her. “I told you that because I know my partner would like to meet you.”_

_“Oh,” she dumbly answered, absently wondering what his definition of the word “partner” was._

_Just then a pale, thin man with black hair, oversized ears, and bright blue eyes sauntered into the room. He was carrying three drinks in his large hands: one glass of white wine and two bloody Marys. He set the wine down in front of Guinevere. “Hello,” he simply said as he sat._

_“Hello,” she replied. “Thank you,” she added, indicating the drink. She took a sip and found it was the same kind she had been drinking at the table._

_“You’re welcome. Tired of this prat yet?” he asked, his voice bearing a rather musical Irish lilt._

_“Um…”_

_“_ Merlin _,” Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes. “Guinevere, this is Merlin. My business partner.”_

_Merlin smiled, lighting up his whole face. It was the kind of smile that one feels compelled to return, and Guinevere found herself automatically doing so. “Nice to meet you, Merlin.”_

_“Very nice indeed,” Merlin agreed, briefly clasping her hand. His hand was cold, but Guinevere chalked it up to the fact that he was just carrying drinks._

_“Now. Tell us about this book of yours,” Arthur said, leaning closer to her._

 

-Eight Months Later-

 

Guinevere stares, wide-eyed, at her two best friends, looking down at her. She isn’t sure what to make of this news, isn’t sure if she is dreaming. “What?” she asks.

“Well, why do you think we’re always inside?” Merlin replies. “You honestly never noticed that if we do go out, it’s at night?”

She dumbly shakes her head. “No,” she whispers.

Arthur sits beside her on the couch and brushes an errant curl away from her face, his fingers trailing down her cheek. “Have you ever seen us actually eat anything, Love?” he asks.

 _Am I that blind? That stupid?_ “Bloody Marys… God, I’m dumb,” she says.

“Don’t forget the sausages,” Arthur adds, grinning.

She looks at him. “Black pudding,” she says, shaking her head.

“Of course.”

“You’re not frightened?” Merlin asks, taking a seat on the other side of her.

She looks back and forth between them, Merlin on her left, Arthur on her right. Their friendship has been firm and close – very close – since that night at the club. She feels like she’s known them her whole life. And here they are, dropping this enormous bomb on her.

An enormous, unbelievable bomb.

_But am I frightened? No. Not of them._

“Vampires aren’t real,” she whispers.

Arthur dramatically gasps, looking over at Merlin, his face a mask of alarm. “Oh, no! Merlin, did you hear that? We’re not real!”

“Oh, okay. I guess we’ll bugger off then,” Merlin jovially replies, and both men begin to stand.

“No!” Guinevere exclaims, reaching out with each hand to block her friends from getting up. She jerks her hands away when she realizes she’s grabbed each of them by the thigh.

Arthur chuckles, takes her hand, and puts it back, placing his own over it.

She looks at him, eyes like saucers.

“Gwen,” Merlin says, and she turns to look at him. “We want you to be with us.”

“What?” she repeats. _Is he asking what I think he is?_

“Forever,” Arthur adds.

 _Oh. He’s not asking what I think he is._ She’s not sure if she’s disappointed or relieved. _It’s not like the thought never crossed my mind…_ “You mean…?”

“We can make you like us,” Merlin explains, reaching up to brush her dark curls away from her neck. “That’s why we told you our secret.”

“So… I’d be like you… _with_ you… forever?” she asks.

“Yes,” Arthur replies, leaning in to nuzzle into her hair. “I am going to miss this smell though,” he murmurs.

Guinevere’s right side erupts in gooseflesh at Arthur’s attention and she almost turns and kisses him.

“Gwen?” Merlin prompts.

She looks over at him and sees his fangs for the first time. She’s not sure if she never noticed them, if he can conceal them, or if they appear when the occasion calls for it. All she knows is she kind of likes the way they look on him.

“Please, Guinevere,” Arthur softly begs, softly running his thumb over the back of her hand.

Her family is dead. Morgana has moved to Paris (with Leon) to be closer to the fashion scene. She works from home and has very few close friends apart from the two men currently flanking her.

Two men who are offering her an eternity by their side.

Her life has been quiet and uninteresting. A life of blending into the background and shying away from the spotlight.

Now she has a chance to make her life interesting… while still being able to shy away from the spotlight.

With Arthur. And Merlin.

And Arthur. Arthur, whose absentminded caresses on the back of her hand are making it very difficult to think clearly.

“Yes,” she whispers. “I want to be with you… both of you… forever.”

Merlin happily grins. Arthur makes a low groaning noise of longing that resonates through to Guinevere’s core.

Then they descend on her, leaning her back against the couch as they each take a side of her neck.

Guinevere gasps and clutches their thighs again. It doesn’t hurt; just the opposite. It feels _amazing._ It’s the single most sensual, erotic experience of her life.

She never feels their teeth pierce her skin, only the soft sucking of their lips and tongues on her sensitive neck. _Did they even…?_ She quickly begins to feel lightheaded. _Oh… yes, I guess so…_

She is vaguely aware of the hungry noises coming from both men as they feast on her blood. She faintly feels a large, strong hand on her breast, and somehow knows it is Arthur’s. She hears a soft gasp and assumes it is her own.

The intense feelings of pleasure increase until, just before everything goes black, she orgasms, fingers of one hand clutching high up on Arthur’s thigh, the other tangled in Merlin’s hair.

 

xXx

 

Guinevere doesn’t know how long she has been unconscious, but the first thing she notices is something warm pressed to her lips.

“Drink.”

The voice seems to come from far away and inside her head at the same time, and, in her hazy state, she automatically obeys it, sealing her mouth around the warm thing and sucking.

“Mmm,” she hums as she slowly starts to regain full consciousness. She doesn’t know what she is drinking, but she doesn’t much care, because it is the most delicious thing she’s ever had.

When it is pulled away from her mouth, she chases it, making an undignified whimpering noise. She opens her eyes and sees a pale arm moving away from her.

“Here, hungry girl,” a different voice says. “Have some more.”

This time she feels her body pulled over against something hard, and her lips land against something larger, warmer, and even sweeter. She sucks it in, moaning blissfully.

The first offering was incredible, but this? This is ambrosia.

“I think she likes you better,” the first voice says.

“Mmm,” the second agrees. “Watch her so she doesn’t drain me,” he adds. “But… God… I might not mind going this way, bloody hell.”

A chuckle. “Cabbage head.”

The insult jogs something in Guinevere’s memory. She finds the will to pull her lips away from her glorious feast. She licks her lips, then focuses her eyes enough to see she’s been sucking on a neck. Then she sees golden blonde hair.

“Arthur,” she exhales, finally able to focus enough to see him. She hesitantly reaches up and touches his face. “Arthur.”

“Yes, Love,” he replies. “How do you feel?”

“Groggy,” she replies, turning to look at Merlin. She reaches over and wraps her fingers around his wrist, where she can see a wound quickly healing. “That was you,” she whispers.

“Yes,” Merlin replies. “You had to drink from us to make the change happen. Well, you only _needed_ to drink from one, but since we both bit you, it seemed fair to reciprocate.”

“That way we all belong to each other,” Arthur says.

“Oh,” she responds, not knowing what else to say. Then she notices she is on Arthur’s lap. “Oh… I…”

He doesn’t let her move. “Guinevere,” he says. “I’ve been waiting for eight months to be able to do this.”

“Do what?” she asks, but his lips are already coming towards hers.

“This,” he murmurs just before he kisses her.

She squeaks in surprise but quickly settles in, clearly having wanted this as well. She’s had several _interesting_ dreams about both Arthur and Merlin during the course of their friendship, but mostly Arthur. She was never brave enough to make the first move, but always hoped he would indicate he felt something more than friendship for her.

He never did. Now she knows why.

She can feel the sharpness of his teeth with her tongue, and curious, probes her own teeth to find they have already changed.

“Why do you think we wanted you to join us?” Arthur asks, leaning his head against hers for a moment before another set of fingers gently encourage her to turn her head.

“Merlin,” she says, smiling at him just before he kisses her as well.

His kiss is different. It is tender and sweet, less passionate, but still sends a delicious thrill through her.

“We have both loved you since the first night we met you,” Arthur says.

“Especially him,” Merlin adds. “Head over heels, he is. Sorry.”

Guinevere laughs, leaning against Arthur. “But you couldn’t do anything about it until I…?”

“You were far too tempting a morsel to have risked it,” Arthur answers, brushing his lips against her neck. “I considered simply… snacking from you from time to time, but…”

“I wouldn’t let him,” Merlin says, kissing her hand. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to stop at snacking.” He turns her hand and places a sucking kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Not that I blame him. You were the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.”

“Without question,” Arthur agrees, his face still buried in her hair, teasing her neck. “And you still smell divine.”

Guinevere shyly smiles, looking down. Then she looks up, first at Arthur, then Merlin, and says, “I love you, too. Both of you.” As she says the words, the truth of them truly hits her. She _does_ love them both. Merlin is kind and a little shy, both an open book yet slightly mysterious, and he makes her feel like she is important. Arthur is surprisingly sweet and gentle, brave yet vulnerable, and he makes her feel like she is beautiful. _What woman could ask for more?_

The smiles they give her in response to her declaration prompt her to kiss them each in turn once more, and their conversation ends for a time while they explore each other.

 

xXx

 

“When you said that we all belong to each other… how do you two belong to one another?” Guinevere asks, now lying between them. Somehow they wound up on a bed in one of the bedrooms in the massive estate the two men share.

“Merlin changed me, if you can believe it,” Arthur explains, his fingers stroking her bare hip.

“Only because you were the only real friend I had ever had. And you were nearly dead,” Merlin quickly adds, unnecessarily defending his actions.

“The plague was a real bugger,” Arthur agrees.

“You’ve been around since the time of the plague?” Guinevere asks, shocked.

“Don’t tease her, Arthur, she’s still adjusting,” Merlin says, reaching over Gwen with his foot to kick him in the shin, but his bare toes have little effect. “He was dying of a gaping stomach wound in an abandoned foxhole.”

“World War I,” Arthur explains. “Merlin found me after my unit bugged out… I ordered them to leave me there, and they did. Bloody traitors.”

“You were their Captain, clotpole,” Merlin points out. “You gave an order and they followed. That’s how the military works.”

“Yes, _thank you_ , Merlin, I am familiar with the concept,” Arthur sighs.

“What were you doing in the war?” Guinevere asks Merlin.

“At that time, I was looking for Arthur. I had been attempting to keep a low profile by working in one of the locals. Wiping tables, mopping up vomit, washing dishes, that kind of thing. At that time, I was feigning mute as a way to explain why I wasn’t fighting in the war. This idiot took notice of me and befriended me, despite my best efforts. When his men came back without him, I had to go find him,” Merlin explained.

“And neither of us were ever seen again,” Arthur adds, striving for a mysterious tone.

Guinevere giggles, then says, “So you are over 100 years old then?”

“I will be 126 this fall,” he answers. “And you are just 25, my love. I have waited a century for you.” He kisses her once, sweetly.

“How old are you, Merlin?” she asks.

“I was born in the year 506,” Merlin says with a sigh.

“Oh my God,” Guinevere replies. “That means you’re…”

“I am 1511 years old, yes,” he confirms. I don’t know my actual birthday, so we mark it on New Year’s Day.”

“Fine enough day for a Pagan to have a birthday,” Arthur points out.

“Well, it was either that or Samhain, which is always a party,” Merlin says.

“How did you become like this?” Guinevere asks. “Who changed you?”

Merlin looks at her, then glances at Arthur once before turning his attention back to her. “I don’t know,” he says. “All I know is I woke up one night and found myself thus. I don’t know how long I was out. I did dabble with magic a bit during my life, but I don’t know if I inadvertently did this to myself or if someone broke in and—”

“You did more than dabble, mate,” Arthur interjects. “Guinevere, you should hear some of the things he’s done. It’s bloody amazing.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Guinevere says, holding her hands up. She sits up slightly and looks down at Merlin. “Merlin,” she says. “Like _Merlin_ Merlin? The mythical wizard Merlin?”

He gives her a slightly guilty look and a half-shrug.

“Why are you always old in the legends? You know, long white beard and all that?” she asks.

“Because it makes me look more mysterious. The pointy hat was a stroke of genius,” he says, trying to hide his grin.

“You perpetrated that?” she asks.

Arthur gently pulls her back down. “Of course he did. Right nutter, this one,” he says. He snuggles against her side, his hand still absently straying over her skin like he is unable to stop touching her.

“You’re going to live here with us, right?” Merlin suddenly asks, changing the subject. He places his head on her shoulder like a puppy looking for attention.

Guinevere kisses his forehead. “Of course I will. I suppose you have a coffin all ready for me?”

The two men laugh. “No coffins,” Arthur says. “The bedrooms have light-blocking shades. You may choose any room you like and make it yours.”

Her brow furrows. “I can’t sleep in here with you?”

“Well, you can, but Arthur and I are old and strong enough to move about during the day, as long as we stay indoors. It will be a while before you’ll be able to do so,” Merlin answers.

“Oh,” she replies, pouting.

“You are adorable when you pout,” Arthur says, kissing her pursed lips.

“We have our own rooms, because sometimes you need your own space,” Merlin explains.

“Even though most of the time we sleep together. When we do sleep,” Arthur adds.

“Oh,” she repeats, smiling now. “Who’s room is this?” she asks. “Wait. Let me guess.” She’s only been in their house a handful of times, and has never been upstairs. They always came to her flat, because it is closer to everything. Their substantial manor is well out of town and extremely secluded, and now she knows why. She looks around the room. “Arthur’s.”

“Yes,” Arthur answers, pleased she knows him so well.

She kisses his smugly smiling face, then asks, “What time is it now?”

“It’s just gone midnight,” Merlin answers.

“Oh, good,” she says, attempting to rise.

“What? Why? Where are you going?” Arthur asks.

She manages to climb over the more cooperative Merlin and stands, facing them, with her hands on her hips, completely unconcerned about her nakedness. “I’m hungry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a very strange dream where I had two male best friends who I didn't realize were vampires. One of them was James McAvoy (no idea why him) and, in my dream, I was a petite blonde (in real life I am neither petite nor blonde).


	2. Chapter 2

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” Guinevere says. They are in Arthur’s car, driving to the club. The club is called _Pulse_ , a little inside joke Gwen never got until tonight.

“We generally don’t kill people,” Merlin says. “If we do, it’s someone who deserves it.”

“Like a murderer or a rapist. That sort,” Arthur adds.

“So how do you eat? Or do you prefer the term ‘feed’?” she asks. “Perhaps not,” she adds, seeing Arthur’s eyes rolling in the rear view mirror.

“Remember when I said I wanted to snack on you?” Arthur asks.

“Yes.”

“If we take human blood, that’s what we do,” he explains. “A pint here, a pint there, not enough to cause any noticeable issues.”

“In most cases,” Merlin adds. “Occasionally someone will feel like having a bit of a lie-down after—”

“Especially if they’re pissed,” Arthur interjects.

“Yes, but we do try not to drink from people who are too drunk,” Merlin clarifies. “It somehow seems unfair.”

“Doesn’t it leave a mark?” Gwen asks.

“No. Do you remember how it felt when we bit you?” Arthur asks.

“Yes. I’ll never forget that for as long as I live… er, exist,” she answers.

“Our saliva has sort of a… magical effect on the living,” Merlin says. “Apart from causing a feeling of…”

“Ecstasy,” Guinevere supplies.

“Yes. It also prevents the victim from feeling the sting of the bite and heals the wound almost immediately.”

“Convenient,” she responds. “You said ‘if we take human blood’ though. You drink other blood as well?”

“We have some discreet arrangements with a few local establishments,” Merlin says. “Butcher, abattoir, even a farm or two.”

“Blood bank?” she asks, frowning.

“Goodness, no,” Arthur answers. “That blood is for the ill and injured. We’re not monsters, Love,” he adds, winking at her before turning into his private parking space at the club.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighs. “I don’t think I would have been comfortable with that.”

“We do try not to hurt mortals,” Merlin says. “Not permanently, I mean.”

“In fact, we make several large, anonymous donations to several hospitals and charities every year,” Arthur adds.

“That’s very good of you,” Guinevere replies, taking Arthur’s hand as she exits the car. As they walk in the back door, she asks, “So if you have all these resources, why have you taken me here?”

“Because you need to learn,” Merlin answers. “How to pick a person and how to drink from them without killing them.”

“I already said I don’t want—”

“It’s not about what you want, Love,” Arthur explains. They are in the private back room, where it is quiet. “Do you remember drinking from Merlin and me?”

“Yes,” she says, biting her lower lip at the memory.

“Did you _want_ to stop?”

“Oh.”

“Right. We had to make you stop. You will have to learn how to make yourself stop, because you won’t want to, despite your understandable moral obligations to murder,” Arthur says. “It’s an instinct. You will have to learn to control it.”

“So… I’ll watch you two?” she asks.

“You’ll watch Merlin,” Arthur says. “And then try with me by your side.”

“You’ll listen to Arthur better,” Merlin says with no trace of bitterness or jealousy. “And he’ll help you find someone, though I don’t think you’ll need any help attracting a willing participant.”

“Why?”

“Guinevere, have you seen yourself? You are breathtaking,” Arthur says. “Another nice side effect of whatever this thing is.”

“Oh, so you lot were trolls before?” she teases, smiling.

“ _He_ was,” Merlin quickly retorts, then ducks Arthur’s playful smack. “Actually, part of the reason I couldn’t resist him was because of how gorgeous he is,” he admits.

“And I thought Merlin was some sort of Faerie prince he was so beautiful,” Arthur admits. “Unfortunately, no one knows what he looked like before except him, and he’s not a trustworthy source,” he adds with a chuckle. “Guinevere,” he says in that low, sexy tone as he walks towards her, “you have _always_ been beautiful.” He cups her face in his hands. “As soon as I – we; both of us – saw you, we were entranced.” He kisses her. “But now, now that you’re one of us?” All he can do is stare at her and slowly shake his head.

“Since you brought up Faeries, it is sometimes referred to as _glamour_ in their lore. Like a supernatural… pheromone, if you will. People will be drawn to you without knowing why. Like charisma, but stronger. Baser,” Merlin explains. “You’ll see once we go into the club.”

“Are you ready?” Arthur asks, sliding his hands down her arms.

“Yes,” Gwen answers.

“Come with me,” he takes her hand and leads her to the elevator.

xXx

Merlin moves like a swan, beautiful and graceful, circulating through the club with practiced ease. Gwen watches as the patrons notice him. Both men and women stop and openly stare, and she can see the want on their faces. She also scans the crowd, wondering who her first meal will be.

“Is my eyesight better?” she asks Arthur, surprised at how she doesn’t have to shout over the music either.

“Yes,” he answers. He stares at her a moment. “Nothing?”

“Hmm?”

“Merlin and I can read each other’s thoughts sometimes. We have to concentrate to do it though. Might just be us, or maybe it will come to you later,” he explains with a shrug. “Watch.” He turns and stares hard down at Merlin.

A few seconds later, Merlin looks sharply up and makes a rude hand gesture to the hidden balcony where Arthur and Gwen are located.

“What did you tell him?” Guinevere asks, laughing.

“I told him to hurry his arse up because you’re hungry,” Arthur says.

She smiles and looks at him. “Try again. Tell me a word at random and I’ll try to guess it,” she says.

He looks at her, really staring deep into her eyes.

Her lips part as she lightly gasps. “Crumpets?” she guesses.

He grins, then kisses her. “Very good, Love,” he praises her. “Oh. Merlin’s found someone.”

She returns her attention to the club below, and sees Merlin sliding into a corner booth with a young woman. She is beautiful and seems to be giggling a lot.

“Ah, he’s being funny tonight, I see,” Arthur assesses.

“Does it make you jealous?” Gwen asks. “Will it make you jealous when I…?”

He shakes his head. “No. It would be like… being jealous of a hamburger. I know he loves me –  _ us _ – and  what he’s doing down there is just an act. We’re hunters, Guinevere. Those people are nothing more than prey. You though? You were different.”

“ I figured that,” she says, her eyes still on Merlin.

“ Do you feel jealous watching him?” Arthur cautiously asks, pulling her closer beside him, his arm around her shoulders.

She takes a couple seconds before answering. Merlin leans in and kisses his prey, his large hand caressing the woman’s face briefly before he moves his lips to trail kisses down her chin, heading for her neck. “No. It doesn’t,” she says. Merlin bites the woman’s neck and when she gasps, so does Gwen. “It kind of… excites me,” she whispers.

“ Ohh, you like to watch, hey?” Arthur assesses, his hand moving down her back to come to rest over her rear.

“ I wouldn’t have thought so, but… yes,” she answers. She turns towards Arthur. “I want to try.”

Arthur groans and kisses her like he has no choice. “Unh, you are irresistible,” he says. “All right. Let’s go.”

xXx

“Do you see how everyone is looking at you?” Arthur quietly asks.

“I see how everyone is looking at _you_ ,” Guinevere counters.

“Look again,” he presses. They move past a table full of what appears to be members of a university rugby team. They all openly stare. One pours his drink on himself. Another tries to set his glass down and misses the table. A third actually moves away from the table to keep watching her as she passes.

She looks back over her shoulder at him, then slowly turns her face forward again.

“Niiiice,” Arthur comments. “I didn’t know you could be such a flirt.”

“Me either,” she laughs. “Do you think… one of them?”

“Definite possibility,” he answers. They stop walking near the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Arthur’s eyebrow rises as Gwen turns to face the source of the voice.

“Oh, sorry, are you with him?” he asks, appreciatively looking Arthur up and down. “If so, I’ll buy him one, too; he’s fit and I’m into everything.”

Arthur laughs, and the music changes to something slow.

“Why don’t we dance instead?” Guinevere suggests, trailing a single finger down the man’s arm until she catches his hand. She sees Arthur’s very slight nod of approval just as Merlin wanders up and joins them.

“We need to order more vodka,” Merlin says. “Aw, look at her… her first kill,” he says once Gwen and her suitor are out of earshot.

Or so he thought. She turns her head back and sticks her tongue out at him.

“Ears like a bat, that one,” Arthur comments.

“Could you do the Thing with her?” Merlin asks.

“With a lot of concentration on both our parts,” Arthur answers. “I think it’ll just take some practice is all.”

“She’s doing well,” Merlin assesses. “Very well.”

Guinevere has her arms looped around the man’s neck. He’s very handsome, with brown hair reaching down to his chin.

“What’s your name?” she asks, lifting up on tiptoe to speak in his ear, deliberately hovering closer than necessary. _He smells yummy._

“Gwaine,” he answers. “And you are… wait. Let me guess. Something exotic and beautiful. A name fit for a princess… like Sophia, or Esmeralda. Yes. Princess Esmeralda.”

“It’s Gwen,” she says, chuckling at him. She moves her fingers into his hair and he makes a low groaning noise.

“You are…” his words trail off as he stares down at her, his brown eyes getting lost in hers. He reaches up and strokes her cheek. “Beautiful. Simply beautiful.”

She goes onto her toes again and says, “So are you.” Then she sucks his earlobe into her mouth.

“Gwen,” he gasps, his fingers digging into her hips. “Holy balls…”

She sinks her teeth into his neck, just below his ear. His blood is hot and delicious. Not the divine nectar she drank from Arthur and Merlin, but amazing nevertheless. She feels his hardness growing against her stomach and it gives her a certain sense of pride.

_STOP!_

The word roars into her head, from both Arthur and Merlin at once, and she somehow finds the will to pull away, first licking the puncture wounds closed.

“Bloody hell, woman,” Gwaine says. “Do you feel what you do to me, just from dancing with me?”

“I do,” she answers just as the music changes. “Maybe next time though, Pet,” she says. She pats his cheek, then leaves him standing and gaping in the middle of the dance floor.

“Guinevere that was _amazing,_ ” Arthur praises, kissing her cheek.

“Well done, Darling,” Merlin agrees, kissing the other. “Arthur, do you need a snack?”

“It depends,” Arthur says. “What are we doing when we get home?”

Merlin looks him up and down. “Better go have a nibble.”

Guinevere looks at her two men, a little confused. “What?”

“We’ll explain when we get home. Watch Arthur. He’s a master at this. Better at it than me in a lot of ways,” Merlin says. “He’s just so bloody handsome no one can resist him.”

“He really is, isn’t he?” Guinevere says, sighing like a stupid lovesick schoolgirl. “But don’t sell yourself short, Love,” she says, smiling up at Merlin.

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I am well aware I have somewhat of a niche appeal. Arthur, however… well, he’s almost everybody’s type.”

“So I see,” Guinevere says with a chuckle, watching as Arthur begins charming the table of rugby players.

Merlin sighs. “He also likes a challenge.” When one of the athletes agrees to go off wherever Arthur plans on taking him, Merlin rolls his eyes. “And now he’s just showing off.”

Arthur must have heard that last part, either with his ears or his mind, because he turns and winks at Merlin.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the purposes of this story, Guinevere is an only child. Elyan is not her brother.

Arthur drives fast on the way back home, mindful of the time. He is just thinking about how thankful he is that is it is late autumn and not late spring when Guinevere’s voice sounds from the back seat.

“You’re going to get pulled over driving like this.”

Merlin laughs, and Arthur rolls his eyes. “I’m not above biting a police officer.”

“He’s done it before,” Merlin says. “He didn’t get a citation, but I nearly had a heart attack.”

There is a pause, then Gwen asks, “Is that even possible?”

“No. He’s just being a drama queen,” Arthur answers. “I’m being mindful of the time for you, Love.”

“It’s only just gone three,” she replies. “But thank you.”

“So you understand why we live in such a remote location now, right?” Merlin asks, turning around.

“Of course. Privacy is very important. Speaking of which, are you going to tell me how, exactly, you make your money? Because you clearly have a lot of it,” she returns.

“When I told you about my various vague business ventures, that was the truth,” Arthur says. “The internet is a Godsend for us.”

“Okay,” she responds, still not completely clear on the details, but she figures she has eternity to learn about it.

“And Merlin here plays the market like a virtuoso,” Arthur adds. “Helps to be a wizard.”

“For the millionth time, I am _not_ a—”

“Yes you are, so shut it,” Arthur cuts off Merlin as he tries to protest. “He _knows_ things. I’m convinced our telepathic powers with each other are caused by his being a wizard.”

“And I’m convinced you’re a prat and a cabbage head,” Merlin replies, but doesn’t protest any further.

“Yet here we are,” Arthur says, reaching over to pat Merlin’s cheek just before turning down the long drive to their home.

xXx

They hurry into the house, not really realizing the urgency in their actions until they reach the upstairs corridor.

“Which room?” Guinevere asks, giggling as Merlin nuzzles her neck.

“Well, you haven’t chosen one yet and we’ve already defiled mine, so…” Arthur decides, pulling them towards Merlin’s room, which is two rooms over from Arthur’s.

“I’ll take the room in between,” Gwen says, pointing back at the unoccupied room.

“You don’t even know what it looks like,” Merlin says, peeling off Arthur’s shirt as Arthur works on Guinevere’s skirt.

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, turning to kiss Arthur’s searching lips. “You said I can decorate it however I want, right?”

“Of course,” Arthur answers, tugging her shirt off over her head.

“Well I want to be near you two, so I’m going to take the room in between. Even if you lads aren’t in your rooms, I’ll still feel better,” she stubbornly declares, her hands on her hips.

“Good point,” Merlin agrees. “It’s hard to argue with a beautiful woman in her knickers posing like Wonder Woman,” he adds, then unclasps her bra.

“How are you still dressed?” Gwen asks, wheeling on Merlin.

“Because you lot have been too busy with each other to pay attention to me,” he says, mock-pouting until she kisses him.

Arthur reaches out, yanks Merlin’s shirt out of his jeans, and begins unbuttoning it around Guinevere.

A minute later, they tumble to the bed, shoving books out of the way.

“Merlin, you’re a pig,” Arthur comments, noting how the room is cluttered with books and papers and scrolls of parchment and _three_ laptops and a microscope and curious bottles and jars of things that neither he nor Guinevere really want to inspect too closely.

“Be nice,” Guinevere gently reprimands, ineffectively smacking his chest. “His room is charming.”

“Thank you, Love,” Merlin replies, pushing Arthur out of the way to kiss her. He indulges himself, kissing her deeply while Arthur’s hands rove both their bodies.

“Mmm,” she hums, reaching out to touch and stroke whatever her hands find, luxuriating in the attention of both men. She absently notes how at ease the three of them already are. Their first time together was tender and exploratory, taking time to learn about each other and how the three of them will work together. This time is playful and easy, like longtime lovers. Or, more accurately, longtime friends who have finally given in to their deeper attraction.

“Turn over,” Arthur murmurs, moving to sit on his heels in front of her while Merlin kneels behind her.

“Yes,” Merlin comments, his hand running over Guinevere’s round backside as he positions her in front of him. Arthur had her last time, so by unspoken agreement, it is Merlin’s turn now.

But Arthur will not go neglected; Gwen takes his cock in her hand, stroking him. When Merlin slides into her from behind, she takes Arthur’s length into her mouth.

Both men groan, Merlin’s thrusts pushing Guinevere’s mouth over Arthur. He delves his fingers of one hand into her hair.

Merlin leans forward, still gripping her hip with his left hand while he moves his right forward and around to touch her, rubbing small circles at the apex of her thighs.

She whimpers around Arthur’s cock while above her Merlin’s lanky frame is long enough for his face to reach Arthur’s, and their lips find each other over Gwen, making a strange, rocking triangle.

Merlin’s skilled fingers bring her to the brink in short order, and she releases Arthur just long enough to shout out her release, her head falling against his thigh as she rides out her orgasm with Merlin still pounding into her.

“Oh, bloody hell,” she pants, then returns her attention to Arthur, who sharply inhales when she takes him back into her mouth, eagerly sucking until he suddenly withdraws and releases into a handful of tissues he had pulled from a box on the nightstand.

“Come on Merlin,” he goads after he has recovered, somehow managing to slide beneath Guinevere to take a breast into his mouth.

“Yes,” Gwen gasps, pushing her backside back into Merlin as he thrusts forward. “Oh, shit… I’m going to…” she curses as she feels a second orgasm building, brought on by Arthur’s attention and the seemingly tireless Merlin.

Arthur slips a sneaky hand out and, as soon as he touches her, she climaxes again with a wordless cry.

“That’s what I was waiting for,” Merlin grits out between clenched teeth. He lets go, driving deep, his slender body tensing as he comes. Then he relaxes and collapses, and the three of them lie in a heap of panting, sated flesh.

xXx

“Have you always been attracted to men?” Guinevere asks Arthur a short time later, absently running her fingers through Merlin’s hair as he rests on her chest.

“Yes,” Arthur answers. “Men and women both, though I had to hide my attraction to men. It was 100 years ago, remember.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking,” she replies.

He twines their fingers together. “I actually joined the Army to specifically try and squash those feelings down.”

“Mmm, yes, let’s join up where we’ll be surrounded by nothing but fit young men. Very logical, that,” she remarks, chuckling.

Arthur is silent for a beat, then he starts laughing. “Oh, bloody hell, you’re right,” he says. “My father really pushed the idea once I mentioned I was thinking about it, so I never really even had the time to think about it too much.”

“Did he know…?”

“No. Good Lord, no,” Arthur answers. “I would have been disowned, castrated, or killed. Or all three.”

“Sounds like a charming fellow.”

“He was a selfish, arrogant snob,” Merlin mumbles, and Arthur nods his agreement.

“You met him?” Guinevere asks, surprised.

“No. Didn’t need to,” Merlin answers.

“Right. You two have been together for a century,” Guinevere nods. “How about you?” she asks, poking Merlin in the head.

“How about me what?”

“Yes, he’s always been attracted to both men and women. And everything in between,” Arthur answers, understanding her question.

“Everything in between?” Guinevere asks, then adds a moment later, “Oh, right. I got it.”

“Men, women, trans, agender, gender fluid, dogs, cats, unicorns, dragons…”

“Merlin!” Gwen exclaims, laughing. He squeezes her while Arthur laughs beside her, shaking his head. “Did you have to hide it too?”

“Merlin’s a Druid,” Arthur says by way of explanation.

“We’re a very non-judgmental people,” Merlin elaborates. “As long as no one gets hurt and everyone consents, no problems.”

“Nice,” Guinevere says. “Modred is gender fluid, right?” she asks, remembering one of the people who tends bar part-time at Pulse. Every time she sees Mordred, they are dressed differently; she never knows what to expect.

“Yes. That adorable little sprite is one of my favorite snacks,” Merlin answers.

Gwen nods, feeling her eyes growing heavy as a sleepiness the likes of which she has never felt before descends on her.

“It’s nearly sunrise,” Arthur murmurs, turning to kiss her forehead, then her lips. “Sleep, tired girl.”

“Stay here with me?” she asks, unable to keep her eyes open.

“For a bit,” Merlin says, lifting his head. “We have business that needs attending.”

“But we’ll be back before you wake, we promise,” Arthur adds.

“Mmkay,” she mumbles.

The last things she feels is Merlin’s kiss, then Arthur’s, before she succumbs to the blackness.

xXx

Guinevere stirs, her eyes blinking open.

It takes her about ten seconds of looking around the strange room and feeling two naked male bodies surrounding her before she remembers.

_I’m a vampire. I’m a vampire involved in a vampire threesome with Arthur and Merlin._

_When did my life get so weird?_

“Good evening,” Arthur says in his best Bela Lugosi accent.

Guinevere laughs, Merlin rolls his eyes.

“Why are you both naked?” she asks, letting her hands roam.

“Well, that was how we left you, so it made sense to return to you that way. Plus it didn’t seem fair for us not to be since _you_ are,” Arthur answers.

She slowly nods. “Are you sure there isn’t another motive behind it?”

“Can’t,” Merlin says. “We haven’t eaten recently enough.”

Gwen looks at him. “Is that how it works?” she asks, puzzling. _She_ certainly feels aroused enough.

“Vampire Viagra,” Arthur says. “We can’t, you know, perform if we don’t have any blood in our system.”

“Oh, so that’s why Merlin suggested you have a little snack before we left the club,” Guinevere says. “Make sense, actually.”

“Yes. We both wanted you again, so preparations were necessary,” Arthur says.

“I can’t get pregnant, can I?” she asks, suddenly wondering how that would even work.

“No,” Merlin says. “I don’t know about your physiology, but we’re shooting blanks here. Like… becoming like this is an automatic vasectomy or something.”

“Weird,” she comments, squirming a little. The lads’ hands are wandering a bit and it’s not helping her predicament any.

“Something wrong, Love?” Arthur asks. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No. Yes. Maybe,” she answers. “I think the Vampire Viagra thing only applies to men,” she admits.

“Oh, someone awoke a little pent up,” Arthur laughs. “Let’s see if there’s something we can do about that…” he adds, then disappears from her side. He reappears between her knees, kissing his way up and nudging Merlin’s legs out of the way. “Shove over, you.”

“Busy,” Merlin mutters against Guinevere’s lips.

“Mmm,” she sighs, arching in pleasure as Arthur’s tongue slips into her folds.

xXx

“What’s all this?” Guinevere asks, walking into her room. It looks like all of her things have been brought from her bedroom back at her flat and placed here.

“Don’t you recognize it?” Arthur asks. “Merlin, don’t tell me we raided the wrong flat…”

“Hmm, someone is going to be in for a surprise when they come home,” Merlin muses, playing along.

Gwen laughs, playfully smacking Arthur’s arm. “No, I mean how did you do all this so quickly?”

“We have People,” Merlin explains, sitting in a chair while Gwen putters in the room, looking around, rearranging some things. “Our agent Elyan is a godsend.”

“Agent?” Guinevere asks.

“He’s a solicitor who works solely for us. He’s completely brilliant. Handles all our affairs and is completely discreet. We had him arrange to move your things, sublet your flat for the remainder of your lease, change your address, and give you access to our accounts,” Arthur says, lounging on the bed.

“What?”

The men just stare at her, blinking, unsure which part has thrown her. Merlin starts to explain. “He—”

“No, I understood, but… why do I need access to your accounts?”

“ _Our_ accounts,” Arthur corrects, gesturing to all three of them. “Love, you’re one of us now. For all intents and purposes, the three of us are married. What is ours is yours.”

She heavily sits on the bed, overwhelmed.

“Your personal accounts are still yours, of course,” Merlin continues. “Arthur and I have private accounts as well, but the joint account is the one we use the most. And there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have access to it.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, leaning over to kiss Arthur, then crossing to kiss Merlin, who pulls her onto his lap.

“I know you’re overwhelmed, Love,” Arthur says, smiling at the two of them. “But you’ll get used to it.”

“Maybe,” she sighs, leaning against Merlin. “I suppose I do have forever, don’t I?” she adds, chuckling.

“Indeed,” Merlin says, kissing the top of her head. “Now. The rest of your things are downstairs, but first things first: Are you hungry?”

“Oh my God, yes,” she exclaims, lifting her head.


	4. Chapter 4

Their club may be the most convenient place to find willing victims, but they find food other places as well.

One night, Arthur and Merlin take Guinevere out into the forest behind their home to hunt for animals. Gwen was skeptical at first, wondering how they could possibly catch wild animals, but it turned out to be a lot easier than she realized.

Heightened senses. Lightning-fast reflexes. Super strength. Silent footsteps. Undetectable scent.

Arthur finds a fox. Merlin snatches several bats out of mid-air. Guinevere spots an owl, but doesn’t have the heart to kill it.

“It’s just an innocent animal,” she says, frowning. Then she nearly stepped on a badger.

“Yeah, badgers are cranky,” Merlin casually observes, watching Gwen very briefly struggle with the angry creature before sinking her teeth into its neck.

“Humans taste better,” she declares, gently setting the animal down and covering its body with fallen leaves.

“Of course they do, but we need to be practical sometimes,” Arthur replies. “One does as needs must.”

“Doesn’t mean we necessarily enjoy it either,” Merlin chimes in. “Wait till you taste the stuff from the abattoir,” he adds with a sour face, tossing another bat over his shoulder.

“How many bats have you gotten?” Guinevere asks, choosing not to think about cold blood from farm animals.

“I think six. No, seven. Not a lot of blood in them, you know,” he answers. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“Yes, you promised we would watch Dr. Who,” Gwen says, taking Arthur’s hand.

“Ugh,” Arthur groans.

“You like it,” Merlin counters, and Gwen grabs his hand with her free one.

“I tolerate it because you two love it,” Arthur protests.

“You like it,” Guinevere presses.

xXx

“This place is loud,” Merlin shouts.

“What?” Arthur asks, looking around the club they have just entered, wrapping an arm around Guinevere.

Merlin sighs. _This place is loud_. He broadcasts his thought to Arthur and Gwen, who both nod.

They chose to visit another establishment tonight, checking out the competition. “Sampling from a different buffet,” as Arthur had so quaintly put it.

It’s a newer place with a younger crowd than Pulse, but they aren’t terribly impressed by what they see.

_Loud is about all it is. In every way. It’s bloody garish._

The thought comes from Arthur, but Gwen doesn’t catch all of it. She gives him a quizzical look that he answers by making a face and pointing around. She nods, understanding.

As they make their way through the crowd, a pretty blonde catches Arthur’s eye. He gives Guinevere a brief but deep kiss, then disappears after his quarry.

_I hate it when he does that._

Gwen looks at Merlin and furrows her brows. She can hear Merlin better in her head than Arthur due to Merlin’s age and the fact that he is basically a wizard, but she still has trouble broadcasting. Concentrating hard, she responds _Does what?_

_Just takes off. I know he always comes back, but it’s bloody annoying._

Gwen smiles, leans over, and kisses him. Then she sees his eyebrows rise. She follows his gaze and sees a young man clearly trying to appear uninterested in everything around him. He has a beard and a man-bun and is wearing a sweater surely bought at a thrift shop with a sage green scarf loosely draped around his neck.

He looks at her. _You’ll be all right?_

She nods and tilts her head towards Merlin’s hipster prey. He grins and leaves her alone.

She stands near a wall, watching the throng, her eyes scanning but not finding anyone of interest. She briefly ponders the fact that this loud dubstep would have given her a headache a month ago, but now nothing gives her headaches.

Except hunger.

And she is hungry. Too young a vampire to be able to go days without eating (Merlin said his record is one month, which he only did just to see how long he could go, and it almost drove Arthur crazy), she needs to feed every night.

“Well, hello.” A smooth voice in her ear snaps her out of her thoughts. She turns and sees a handsome man, older than most of the patrons, giving her a devilish grin. “This sort of crowd seems beneath you somehow,” he purrs into her ear.

She looks at him and smiles. He’s not ideal, but she’s hungry. “I could say the same about you,” she replies, leaning up to answer him.

He offers his hand. She takes it and he lifts it to his lips before leaning in to speak in her ear again. “Cenred Jones. This is my humble establishment. And what is your name, darling?” he asks, still holding her hand.

“Gwen,” she answers. “Since you’re the owner,” she starts, trailing her free hand over his chest, “is there someplace… quieter we could go?”

“Mmm, I thought you’d never ask,” he answers, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. “Your hand is so cold, darling,” he observes, rubbing her hand.

“They usually are,” she answers, walking with him. On her way to wherever they are going, she sees Arthur and his blonde. He actually does not look as interested as he originally did, and she blows him a kiss. He winks in return.

“Is that your lover?” Cenred asks, having seen the exchange. He opens a door and ushers her into a private room very similar to the one they have at Pulse.

“One of them,” she lightly answers.

“Ooo, naughty minx, what a delicious surprise,” he replies. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No thank you. I don’t actually drink alcohol,” she says with a smile as she sits on a leather sofa, crossing her legs in a way that gives maximum leg exposure.

“Well, if you need anything at all, just say the word,” he offers, sauntering towards her with a drink in his hand. His eyes rove her body, pausing at key places. “My, but you are lovely, aren’t you?”

Guinevere slowly blinks, looking up at him. “Thank you,” she answers, rubbing her hand over the seat beside her. “Are you going to join me?”

“Is your lover out there going to be upset with me?” he asks in return, though he doesn’t look terribly concerned.

She shakes her head. “Neither of them will be,” she answers.

He knocks back his drink in one go. “Bloody hell,” he softly curses, then sits, setting his drink on a nearby table. She places her hand high on his thigh, leaning towards him. “You look as demure as a little librarian, yet here you have at least _two_ lovers,” he comments, impressed and perhaps a little wary. “And you came here with them?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she replies, rubbing his thigh. “And they’re out there doing exactly what I’m doing back here with you.”

Cenred blinks, almost unable to process this information. Her hand on his leg is very distracting, too, and he finds he is having a little trouble thinking clearly. “H-how many do you have?”

“Just the two,” she answers, moving closer, trailing her other hand into the open vee at the collar of his shirt. She slides it inside.

“I…”

“Shh,” she soothes, nuzzling behind his ear. “Mmm, you smell delicious,” she murmurs, sucking his earlobe.

He groans and suddenly moves, his hands all over her, his lips seeking hers out. He tries to ease her down onto her back, but she pushes back, climbing over him and straddling his lap.

“You’re very forward,” he remarks. “And surprisingly strong.”

She licks his upper lip with the tip of her tongue. “Is that a problem?”

“God, no,” he exhales, his eyes searching her face, looking dazed enough for her to know that the elixir in her saliva is starting to affect him.

“Good,” she whispers, closing her lips over his, plundering his mouth with her tongue until he gathers the last shreds of his will to plunder back. She almost panics when he takes control of the kiss, but then inspiration hits her.

She sucks his tongue into her mouth, drawing the muscle in as far as she can. Then she sinks her teeth into it and sucks even harder.

He groans, one hand cupping her ass and the other her breast. When he moans, she opens her eyes for a moment and sees his eyes rolled back into his head in euphoria.

Gwen has gotten better about knowing when to stop, but occasionally one still gets away from her. This is one of those times.

Cenred is already going blissfully limp, his erection prodding her sex, before she realizes she should stop.

“Oh,” she gasps, licking her lips.

He flops back onto the couch, a drugged smile on his face, his eyes closed, a tent in his trousers.

“Shit,” she whispers, then presses her fingers to his neck. There is a pulse. She leans down, kisses his forehead, whispers, “Thanks,” and adjusts her dress before walking back out to the noise of the club to find her loves.

xXx

“She was dreadful,” Arthur declares inside the quiet seclusion of their car. “A spoiled child through and through. God, I can still hear her chirpy little voice in my head…” he complains.

“But she thought you were fit,” Guinevere guesses.

“Oh yeah. She was already planning our wedding in her head,” he confirms.

“How do you know that?” Gwen asks.

“I told him,” Merlin answers. “I finished with mine before he did, and decided to hover nearby and eavesdrop.”

“By ‘eavesdrop’ he means ‘read our minds’,” Arthur supplies.

“The principal is sound,” Merlin defends himself while Guinevere giggles. “The images flying through her head while Arthur was dining on her blood were very clear.”

“White dresses and churches?” Guinevere theorizes.

Merlin nods. “Doves and everything. And beautiful blonde children.”

“How did you leave her?” she asks Arthur.

“Dazed,” he answers.

“That’s the best way. Saves the awkward exit,” Merlin comments.

“Merlin, how was your gentleman?” Arthur asks.

Merlin sighs and rolls his eyes. “Unfulfilling.”

“Oh no…” Gwen says.

“Gwen. Learn from my area of weakness,” Merlin starts.

“Skinny hipsters,” Arthur supplies, and Gwen snorts a laugh. “What was this one’s name?”

“Claimed it was Atticus,” Merlin answers, and Arthur raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Yeah, someone read _To Kill a Mockingbird_ one too many times,” he agrees. “His name is really Adam.”

They don’t even bother asking how he knows this.

Arthur turns the car onto their drive. “Mate, you really need to get over this obsession with these malnourished weeds. They don’t do you any good at all.”

Merlin sighs. “I know. But they’re just so pretty… and brooding… and—”

“Seriously, Merlin?” Gwen asks as they walk into the house. “I bet you had a good time during the Romantic Era.”

“Don’t get him started,” Arthur interjects, giving Merlin a warning look. “Had a thing for Beatniks in the 1960s too. This chap was another vegan, wasn’t he?”

“Yes,” Merlin sheepishly replies. After a moment, he admits, “Another one who doesn’t properly balance their diet.”

“So his blood wasn’t nourishing to you then?” Guinevere asks.

“That is correct. Drugs and alcohol in the blood don’t have any adverse effect on us, but weak blood is like… empty calories,” Arthur explains. “And really, being a vegan is fine as long as a person still takes proper care of himself. And clearly this _Atticus_ thinks kale is a food group.”

“Are you quite finished?” Merlin groans.

“Kale was also the name of his last brooding poet that turned out to be an empty meal,” Arthur stage-whispers to Guinevere.

“I’m going to my room,” Merlin declares.

“Oh, don’t pout, Love,” Arthur calls after him. When Merlin turns, Arthur gives him a pathetic face.

“We just care about your well-being is all,” Guinevere says, holding her hand out.

“Damn you both,” Merlin answers, and comes back, taking Gwen’s hand. He kisses Arthur and says, “You bastard, you know I can’t resist that face of yours.”

“I know,” Arthur replies, wrapping his arm around Merlin’s head and roughly tugging him close in an affectionate headlock. “Besides, we haven’t heard about Guinevere’s bloke.”

“Oof,” Gwen says, pulling the two men into the living room. “Let me tell you, he was something.”

“Well, _who_ was he?” Arthur presses.

“The owner,” she answers. “And I nearly killed him.”


	5. Chapter 5

“The publishing house wants another book,” Guinevere says, her phone dangling from her hand. She’s still managing to work, having told her publishers she discovered she is most creative at night, so they have agreed to work with her new schedule.

“Guinevere, that’s amazing!” Arthur exclaims, throwing his arms around her and kissing her. As soon as he leans back, Merlin does the same.

“Congratulations, Love,” he says, giving her a fond smile.

She stares at them both for a long moment, then whispers, “I don’t have any ideas. I’m supposed to call them back with an outline… tomorrow.”

“We’ll help you!” Merlin cheerfully says. “We’ll brainstorm and see what we can come up with.”

“Oh, that’s really okay… I mean, I have a few notes in my laptop, and—” she quickly says, reaching for her computer.

“How about a… a dude ranch?” Merlin says, forging ahead anyway.

“What?” Gwen replies.

“Merlin, that’s terrible,” Arthur agrees.

“No, no, hear me out…”

“No!” Arthur and Guinevere say together.

“Okay. Um. Post-apocalyptic teen—”

“No!” they chorus again.

Merlin pouts a moment. “Why don’t you write about this?” he asks, motioning to them. “But… pretend it’s fiction.”

Guinevere and Arthur don’t immediately answer.

“…Not yet,” Gwen says at length. “Maybe once I’ve had more time to fully settle in. More time to live this life. And more entries in the journal I’m keeping.”

Merlin nods. “Sorry, I sometimes forget you’re much newer to this than we are.”

“Hey,” Arthur says, perking up. “Write about Merlin. The _real_ story. But, like Merlin just said, frame it as fiction.”

“Aren’t there enough versions of that story already?” Merlin asks.

“Yeah, all perpetrated by you and the large ego you kept hidden under that meek exterior,” Arthur retorts, poking him on the shoulder.

“I don’t—”

“No, no, he’s on to something here,” Guinevere opens her laptop. “I don’t think there’s ever been a story about a _young_ Merlin. I could write about your adventures… did you _have_ adventures? with King Arthur.”

“Um, about that…”

“Exactly!” Arthur interrupts, pleased she likes his idea.

“I wasn’t that close with King Arthur,” Merlin says.

“What?” Guinevere asks, confused. “I thought you were, like, his… personal sorcerer or something.”

“Legend,” Merlin reminds her. “Honesty, no one is interested in a bored young man who dabbled—”

“Melin…” Arthur sighs, rolling his eyes.

“ _Fine._ ” Merlin huffs. “No one is interested in a bored young _alchemist_ who once singed off his own eyebrows while trying to create a new incendiary weapon to get on King Arthur’s good side so he wouldn’t—” This time Merlin cuts himself off.

“Yes they bloody are, and wouldn’t _what_?” Gwen asks, already typing notes.

Merlin sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “I wasn’t King Arthur’s favorite person. Not by a long shot,” he admits, his words slightly obscured by his hand.

“Why is that?” Guinevere gently presses.

“Because I was in love with his wife,” Merlin admits.

“What?” Arthur and Gwen chorus once more.

“He suspected… I mean, I guess I wasn’t very good at hiding my feelings…” Merlin stammers, embarrassed. Arthur snorts, then Merlin adds, “So I thought I’d try to get on his good side by building him a new kind of weapon to try and make nice… distract him, I guess.”

“He didn’t share as nicely as I do, hey?” Arthur asks, his lips curling into a sly smile.

“No. And he wasn’t married to Gwenhwyfar,” Merlin says, looking at Gwen.

“But…”

“We’ve even joked about this! Merlin, Arthur, and Guinevere, like the legends!” Arthur exclaims, feeling betrayed. “Bloody hell, I’ve known you for 100 years and you’ve _never_ told me any of this!” he yells.

“I’m… rather ashamed of it,” Merlin admits. “And I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Mate…  _ one hundred bloody years. _ And it’s not like  _ I’m _ King Arthur. I’m just me.”

“You do look a little like him,” Merlin says. “Just a little. Around the eyes, sometimes. And he was blond.”

“Irrelevant,” Arthur counters. “Besides, there are so many _other_ things I already know about you that are just cause for me to think less of you and you know it.”

Merlin says nothing, knowing he is in the wrong here. “I’m sorry I never told you,” he says, reaching out and squeezing, then rubbing Arthur’s knee.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Arthur says with a heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair. “Now spill it so Guinevere can get enough notes down for tomorrow.”

Merlin purses his lips, then leans back in his chair. “King Arthur was married to Morgan le Fay.”

“The sorceress?” Guinevere asks.

“Hardly. Pretty much any woman who was strong or independent in any way was automatically suspected of being a witch, if not accused outright,” Merlin says. “She wasn’t a witch, but she could be a bitch. Oh, and she was Arthur’s cousin, too.”

“Ew,” Arthur says.

“It was quite common then, especially among royalty,” Merlin explains. “Arthur _was_ in love with Gwenhwyfar though.”

“And who was she?” Gwen asks.

“Morgan’s handmaiden.”

“Oh, shit,” Gwen says, typing.

“Indeed,” Merlin agrees. “She… wasn’t quite as beautiful as Morgan, but she was very charming. Intelligent. Kind to everyone. She had _inner_ beauty. And she did refuse the king for a long time.”

“Wasn’t she supposed to be a great beauty with strawberry blonde hair? Oh, and what about Lancelot?” Arthur asks, now listening with rapt attention.

“Would you like some bloody popcorn, Arthur?” Merlin snaps, noticing his friend looks like he’s watching a juicy telenovela. “This is a bit painful for me, I’ll have you know.”

Arthur, apparently having forgotten his own hurt for the moment, immediately looks contrite. He reaches out and squeezes Merlin’s hand. “Sorry, Love. Continue.”

Merlin sighs, unable to ever stay cross with Arthur. “Arthur and Gwenhwyfar had an affair,” he says.

“Oh, shit.” This time it is Arthur who makes the exclamation.

Merlin nods. “Gwenhwyfar got…”

“Pregnant,” Gwen whispers, her fingers stilling for a second before furiously typing again.

Merlin nods once more. “She knew she couldn’t keep the child… she was unmarried, and would likely lose her job. Morgan would find out; she was already suspicious of them. She didn’t truly love Arthur, but he was her husband and she was  _ very _ observant.” He looks down. “Gwenhwyfar came to me for help.”

“Did you help her?” Gwen asks.

Merlin looks up. “Of course I did! She was a dear friend. Almost a sister to me. Her father helped my mother out countless times, because my own father died when I was a baby. I  _ had _ to help her.”

“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” Gwen responds, giving him a sad smile.

“Morgan somehow found out anyway. And found out I helped. She was furious… so, to get her revenge, she came to me one night… seduced me. She knew I loved her. Or I thought I did anyway. I definitely wanted her, but so did at least half of the kingdom.” He pauses, then shakes his head. “Anyway. She used me to get back at Arthur; made me think we were going to flee together. Didn’t happen. She went back to him and let him discover what we did.” He pauses again and adds, “Of course I didn’t know she had found out about Gwenhwyfar until it was too late.”

“…How?” Gwen asks. “It’s not like you could have left lipstick on her collar or she could have left her mobile out with an incriminating text message on it.”

“I inadvertently… marked her. Well, she manipulated me into it,” Merlin answers.

“You gave her a hickey,” Arthur says.

“I didn’t mean to. But she knew what she was doing. Her skin was white as milk; it didn’t take much. Anyway, she was gone before I woke, so I never even knew I had done it,” Merlin says.

“What happened then?” Guinevere asks, almost afraid to find out.

“They fought. Morgan… she killed Arthur. The argument turned physical, and he wouldn’t strike her. He _was_ a great warrior, that much is definitely true. But he would not hit his wife, even though she betrayed him,” Merlin says.

“He betrayed her first,” Arthur assesses.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Merlin replies with a sigh. “She killed him, then… then I killed her.”

“You _what?_ ” Arthur asks.

“I killed her. I loved her, but I killed her.”

“Why?” Guinevere asks.

He looks at her. “She was not fit to rule. She would have… destroyed the kingdom that Arthur’s father had worked so hard to build, that Arthur had been improving even more.”

“What happened to you after that? Surely you were arrested,” Arthur ponders.

“No one even knew I was there. The way I left it, it would have been assumed they killed each other. But still I fled. Went to my home, scribbled a note to Gwenhwyfar – she could read, which was rare for a commoner – and fled,” he explains. “I exiled myself to the north, living in caves and huts, until the night I woke up like this.”

Arthur and Guinevere stare at Merlin for a minute. “This is some good stuff right here,” Gwen says, slowly nodding. “What happened to Gwenhwyfar?”

“Her father was a blacksmith. He took on an apprentice a short time later. He and Gwenhwyfar fell in love and got married. I was pleased to hear it.”

“His name wasn’t Lancelot by chance, was it?” Arthur asks.

“No. At least I don’t think so. I never learned his name, because I heard that information third or fourth hand,” Merlin says. “I didn’t actually have anything to do with Lancelot’s addition to the story. That was some French bloke looking to add more drama,” he adds with a scoff. “If he only knew…”

“Well, at least _someone_ got a happy ending,” Guinevere says. “That is some story, Merlin.”

Merlin reaches out with both hands, taking Gwen’s and Arthur’s in them. “I like to think I got a happy ending, too,” he says.

Gwen leans over and kisses him. “Thank you for sharing that, darling. It means a lot to me,” she says. “But I’ll of course be needing more details as I get further into it.”

“Of course, and you’re welcome,” he replies. Then he turns to Arthur. “Come on, let’s let her work.”

Arthur kisses Guinevere, then stands, taking Merlin’s offered hand. “Yeah, you’ve got some groveling to do,” he says.

“Love you,” Gwen calls after them. “Don’t kill each other.”

xXx

An hour later, Guinevere has her outline mostly put together, and realizes she hasn’t yet eaten tonight. She stands and walks next door to Arthur’s room.

They have an “open-door policy”, but she still knocks out of courtesy before opening the door.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” she giggles as Merlin rolls off of Arthur and the two men sit up.

“Room for one more, Love,” Arthur invites.

“Mmm, tempting, but I need to eat,” she replies. “Looks like you two have made up. Or were in the process of it when I interrupted you.”

“Yes, we’re good now,” Arthur confirms.

Guinevere leans against the door frame and crosses her arms over her chest. “So… if you can’t… you know… what do you do?”

“We’re champion snoggers,” Merlin answers with a laugh. “It can be a little frustrating sometimes, but it’s easily enough remedied if we want to proceed further.”

She smiles and nods.  _ They are both really, really good kissers. _ She second-guesses her earlier response to their invitation for a moment, but truly does need to eat. “Speaking of, are you lot going to eat tonight?”

“Oh,” Merlin says, thoughtfully biting his lower lip. “Um, do you mind if we stay here tonight? I mean, are you all right to go on your own?”

“Sure, it’s fine,” she answers, having suspected as much. She thought they might want to stay home tonight after their misunderstanding.

“We’re not excluding you, Love, we promise,” Arthur adds. “If you want us to come along with you, it would be no trouble at all.”

“I’ll be just fine on my own,” she insists. They don’t always _all_ go. There have been times when she’s gone with just one of them, but this will be her first solo jaunt.

“Hey, if she was able to control herself enough with that Cenred bloke, I think she’ll do well,” Merlin assesses. “But come kiss us goodbye first.”

She pushes herself off of the doorframe and saunters to them.

“God, how are you so sexy in just that ratty old bathrobe?” Arthur asks, lifting his face to hers.

“Because you know what’s under it,” she whispers before kissing him. A second later, she is pulled down onto the bed. “Arthur!” she squeals.

“Merlin couldn’t reach you,” he replies, and she swats him on the arm before leaning over him to get to Merlin.

As she kisses Merlin, she feels Arthur’s hand sliding up her leg and under her robe. “He’s looking for trouble,” she murmurs against Merlin’s mouth.

“Tell me something new,” Merlin replies.

“I’m right here,” Arthur says, but then he squeezes Gwen’s bum.

“I’m very hungry,” she says and shifts, awkwardly climbing off of them, despite Arthur’s best efforts.

“Are you going to the club?” Merlin asks as she walks to the door.

“Probably, why? Do you need me to go there?” she asks.

“Not _need,_ but if you would like to go...”

“Yes, I was planning on going there,” she says, chuckling. “I’ll make sure the children are behaving themselves.”

“Thank you, Love,” Merlin says.

“Come back soon,” Arthur adds.

xXx

Guinevere walks into the club via the back entrance, the one they usually use. She heads to the office first, deciding to see if there is anything important in the post.

She sinks into Arthur’s chair, the more comfortable of the two (in her opinion), and flips through the envelopes that were in the box outside the door.

Nothing that needs immediate attention.  _ Good. _ She leans back in the chair, indolence at war with hunger. She idly wonders what her boys are up to at home; if they got desperate enough to dip into their vaults of “emergency” rations, downing a pint of cow’s or pig’s blood to allow them to  go further with their dalliance .

She once asked them what they do together; what they did with each other, sexually, before they invited her into their world. “Blow jobs and hand jobs, mainly,” Merlin had matter-of-factly replied. “We tried anal – both of us – a few times. Decided it wasn’t for us.”

She closes her eyes and tries to picture them together, but she’s never been very good at visualizing things like _that_ in her mind’s eye, and exhales, disappointed. “I’ll just have to ask if I can watch sometime,” she says aloud to the empty office. Thus far all their intimate activities have involved all three of them.

Her head is starting to hurt, so she pushes herself out of the chair and leaves the office,  taking care to remember to  lock it behind her.  _ Don’t need anyone finding out what’s in the mini-fridge. _

“Hey, Gwen,” Mordred greets her from behind the bar.

“Good evening, Sweetie,” Gwen replies, leaning forward to exchange cheek kisses with them. “Anything going on?”

“Not really. Are Merlin and Arthur with you?” they ask.

“No, they had a little tiff and decided to stay home and have a cuddle,” she answers.

“Aw,” Mordred says, smiling. “It’s been quiet back here, but check with Percival.”

“Mmm, gladly,” she replies, only too happy to go visit the adorable six-and-a-half-foot-tall solid wall of muscle that is their head of security.

“I’m telling,” Mordred calls, and Gwen waves him off, laughing.

She walks through the club, automatically scouting for potential meals while wondering if Arthur and Merlin would be cross with her if she took a little nibble out of Percival.

She had asked them if they’d ever snacked from him like Merlin does Mordred, and was told that Percival is stalwartly hetero and could not be swayed.

But they never forbade her from giving it a go.

“Hey, Percival,” she says, smiling up at him.

“Good evening, Miss Leodegrance,” Percival replies, nodding at a couple of young women walking past.

“You know them?” she asks. They looked rather young.

“They’ve been here a few times,” he answers. “I checked their IDs the first time.”

She nods, knowing Percival has an amazing memory for both faces and names. It was one of the reasons he was hired. “Anything happening?”

“Hang on,” he stops a young man with a gentle hand on his chest. Then he snaps his fingers and holds out his hand. The man puts his ID in it, which Percival scrutinizes. “This isn’t even you, mate. Piss off.”

Gwen looks at Percival’s hand and sees a ring there. She never took notice of it before, but it’s on the third finger of his left hand.  _ He’s married. Probably best to not make him my dinner then. _

“It’s me…” the young man protests. “Ask me anything on that card.”

“I could, but then I’d only learn that you memorized what’s on this card,” Percival replies, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve had a haircut,” he tries.

“Nice try. Now Piss off,” he repeats, waving him away.

“Can I have my card back?” the young man tries.

“Ain’t your card, so, no.”

“Tosser,” the man mutters under his breath as he walks away.

Percival shows Guinevere the card.

“That’s not even close to what he looks like,” she says.

He nods, chuckling. “It also helps that I know the bloke who really owns this card,” he says, putting it in his pocket instead of in the box with the other fakes. He nods at a couple more patrons, then says, “It’s been mostly quiet. Oh, wait…” he looks down and takes a business card out of another pocket. “A man was here earlier looking for an owner. Left his card.” He hands it to Gwen.

She looks down at it and swears under her breath.  _ Cenred Jones. _ “Did he say why?” she asks.

“Not sure. He was… very carefully charming?” he says, trying to put Cenred’s demeanor into words. “Like, he had a specific persona. Or something. He seems like he’s probably a bit slimy underneath.”

“Thank you for the warning,” she says, deciding it’s not important to let him know she’s already met Cenred. “Percival?”

“Yes?” he asks, nodding at some people who are leaving.

“How long have you been married? I never noticed you had a wedding ring before,” she says, pointing to his hand.

“Just over three years,” he says. “You probably never looked is all,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Doesn’t your wife miss you at night?” she asks.

“Nah, she works nights too. She’s a nurse,” he explains. “Purposely took nights when I got this job so we would have similar work schedules.”

“That’s sweet,” she replies. “Well, thanks again for this,” she says, patting his thick arm. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks, Miss, you too,” he answers.

_ He’s too adorable and sweet for me to sink my teeth into anyway, _ she thinks as she walks away. A minute later, she spots her dinner, smiles, and saunters through the crowd towards him.

xXx

Guinevere returns home after leaving her gentleman suitor dazed in a booth in a corner of the club with a pint less blood. Dawn is still a ways away, but she misses Arthur and Merlin.

And she kind of wonders what they are up to. Hopes it is something good.

She enters the house and heads up to her room to drop her purse and change back into her comfy bathrobe. Another perk of her new lifestyle is she doesn’t get cold, so even in early December, she can pad across the stone floor in her bare feet to the bedroom next to hers without feeling any discomfort.

For a person who was generally cold in her former life, it is wonderful.

She listens at the door for a second.

“I know you’re out there, Gwen,” Merlin’s voice sounds from inside the room.

_ Damn him. _ She opens the door and finds her men still on Arthur’s bed, only now they are wearing fewer clothes. She also sees evidence that they’ve had a little something to eat. Fairly recently.

“Hi,” Guinevere says. “What are you doing?” she innocently asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Arthur returns, giving her a heated look as he slides his hand over Merlin’s thigh.

“Wouldn’t you like to join?” Merlin amends, holding his hand out.

“Wouldn’t I like to _watch_ ,” she quietly admits, sitting on Arthur’s recliner. “I mean, if that’s all right with you.”

Arthur’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “Naughty girl!” he exclaims. “And I’m definitely game.”

“Me too,” Merlin agrees. “Can you see well enough from there?”

“I think so,” she answers. “Just… carry on then. Pretend I’m not here.”

“Not possible, but we’ll try to give you a good show,” Arthur says, lifting up his hips while Merlin slides his shorts down over his legs.

“Oh, someone’s eager,” Merlin declares when Arthur’s erection springs free.

“Mmm, apparently I like the idea of Guinevere watching,” Arthur responds, closing his eyes as Merlin kisses his way back up.

As soon as Arthur can reach, he tugs Merlin’s pants down, but only succeeds in shifting them slightly askew. Guinevere giggles as they work together to remove Merlin’s underwear.

That sorted, Merlin pushes Arthur back down onto the bed, straddling his thighs. He leans down and kisses him, pressing his pale, slender body against Arthur’s gold-tinged, muscular one, and Arthur reaches around and grabs Merlin’s backside, squeezing and kneading.

Then he slaps it, causing Merlin to pull away, sit up slightly, and then lightly slap Arthur’s face in response.

Gwen’s eyebrows rise.  _ They like to roughhouse? Interesting. _

“Behave,” Merlin reprimands, then kisses Arthur again. He begins working his way back down, kissing a path down his chest, his hand sliding downwards as well. Arthur groans when Merlin’s fingers wrap around his length, his body going taut for a moment, his eyes closing.

When he opens them again, he looks over at Guinevere. She has her lower lip caught between her teeth and her robe has fallen open just enough to give her a very disheveled, very sexy look. She sees him looking at her, meets his gaze, and the look in his eyes is enough to bring a deliciously warm tingling sensation to the apex of her thighs. She squirms a bit in her seat, and her robe shifts further open.

Merlin slides his lips over Arthur’s cock, his hand moving down to his balls. Arthur moans and arches under the attention, but keeps his eyes on Guinevere for a few more moments. “Yes,” he hisses when he sees her tug her robe the rest of the way open and slide her hand between her legs.

Arthur gropes over Merlin’s body, tugging, until Merlin shifts enough for Arthur to reach him. Merlin is now able to see Gwen in his new position, so he takes a little time to watch her with one hand on a breast, the other rubbing small, almost lazy circles, while he continues to slide his mouth up and down on Arthur. He only loses his rhythm for a split second, when Arthur starts stroking him.

“Merlin,” Arthur groans, his strong hand moving on Merlin’s cock the way he knows his partner likes. “Are you… watching Guinevere?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Merlin answers, then lifts his head. “She’s supposed to be watching us though,” he adds, giving Arthur’s balls a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, I definitely am,” Gwen breathily answers, plunging two fingers inside herself and pumping them in and out a few times.

“Sure you don’t want to join us?” Merlin asks, sticking his tongue out and circling it around the head of Arthur’s cock.

“I said I was going to… oh… watch, and that’s what I… intend to do,” she responds, rubbing her thumb over her nipple. “It’s a good show,” she sighs.

Merlin chuckles, then drops his head again, returning to his original task, sucking harder, more fervently now.

“Oh, fuck,” Arthur gasps, his back arching again. “Oh… Merlin I’m…”

After a century together, Merlin doesn’t even need  _ that _ much warning. He lifts his head and replaces his mouth with his hand, stroking Arthur until he comes, spurting over his torso.

Arthur pauses for only a few seconds, then swipes his hand through the puddle on his stomach and returns his wet hand to Merlin’s cock.

“Oh, yeah,” Merlin exhales, flopping back onto the bed, taking his pleasure now. He turns his face towards Guinevere agains, and sees her breathing heavily, her fingers between her legs moving faster now as she approaches her climax as well.

Arthur is also staring unabashedly at her while his hand moves on Merlin, and when she gasps and comes, so does Merlin, shouting words in a strange language as he does so.

“He does that sometimes,” Arthur says after a moment.

“I know,” Gwen replies. “I’ve heard it before.”

“Oh that’s right, you have. That time in the kitchen,” Arthur says.

“And in front of the fireplace,” Merlin adds, turning his head to kiss Arthur’s hip.

“That was fun,” Guinevere says, still disheveled, not bothering to close her robe.

“Yes,” Arthur agrees, shifting as Merlin moves so his head is back up by the pillows again, lying behind Arthur. “We’ll have to figure out how you can repay us sometime.”

“Well, she did give us something to watch too,” Merlin points out.

Gwen chuckles, then asks, “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course,” Merlin replies.

“Um… do you ever… swallow?”

Arthur smiles. “It’s not blood, Love.”

“Well, obviously not, but I was just wondering… since it is a bodily fluid and all…” she clarifies.

“No, I get it,” Arthur says. “It just doesn’t work.”

“Doesn’t work?” she echoes, leaning her head back against the soft leather of the recliner.

“We tried,” Merlin explains. “Can’t. It just… doesn’t go down,” he says. Then he notices the time and Gwen’s demeanor. “Love, you had better come over here and lie down.”

“Is it that late?” she asks, shucking her robe and walking to the bed. “Oh, I guess it is,” she adds. Her eyes are heavy and her limbs feel leaden.

“About… 20 minutes,” Arthur guesses, moving again so she can lie between them.

She gives each of them a deep, leisurely kiss, whispers, “I love you,” to them, and closes her eyes.

“Love you, too,” they both reply, curling beside her, deciding to have a sleep as well.


	6. Chapter 6

“Well, Gwenhwyfar’s father was a blacksmith, remember?” Merlin explains, his head resting on Gwen’s thigh as she types more notes.

“Oh, that’s right. I must not have taken that down before,” she replies. “What about her mother?”

“She died when Gwenhwyfar was a girl. I don’t know how old, and neither did she,” Merlin answers.

“Too young?”

“Commoners generally didn’t mark birthdays. I’m not even _completely_ sure how old I am, to be honest,” he says. “In any case, Gwenhwyfar said her mother was a maidservant in the household of one of the knights.”

“Do you know how she died?” Gwen asks. She’s taken a special interest in Gwenhwyfar, but she doesn’t know if it is because they sort of share the same name or because Merlin told her that Gwenwhyfar was a woman of color. Possibly both.

“Illness. Probably what is now known as cancer,” Merlin says. “She was ill for a while, I guess.”

“How sad,” Guinevere replies with a frown.

Merlin turns and looks up at her. She hasn’t typed anything in a few minutes. “Gwen?” he asks.

“Hmm?” she looks down at his upside-down face and smiles, caressing his cheek with her hand.

“Do you still want to hear about this sword?”

“Oh yeah. Right. Got sidetracked,” she answers, shaking her head. “Proceed, my lovely muse,” she declares.

Merlin snorts a laugh. “So. Tom – that was Gwenhwyfar’s father – was a master craftsman. I mean he did  _ amazing _ work. Beautiful.”

“Was he the royal blacksmith or something?” Gwen asks.

“No, they didn’t have one of those,” Merlin answers. “Most of the knights carried his swords though.”

“And King Arthur?”

“Talking about me?” Arthur interjects, sauntering into Guinevere’s room. He lounges on her bed, across from where Gwen and Merlin are working.

“She said _King_ Arthur,” Merlin says, throwing a pillow at him.

Arthur catches it, tucks it under his head, and sighs. “Yes, I heard.”

“Arrogant,” Guinevere lowly comments, trying not to smile.

“You love it,” Arthur returns. “Both of you.”

“Yes, but you’re interrupting,” Merlin replies.

“I’m bored, so I thought I’d come listen,” Arthur explains.

“So shut up and listen then,” Merlin says. Arthur makes a great show of closing his mouth and looking attentive. Merlin rolls his eyes. “ _Anyway_ , when Arthur was crowned king, he decided he should have the best sword in all the land, and Gwenhwyfar was determined to see that he got his wish.”

Gwen pauses her typing and looks down at Merlin again. “Excalibur?”

“No. Yes. Well…” Merlin’s cheeks color as he struggles to explain.

“He made up that name,” Arthur chimes in.

“You are supposed to be listening,” Merlin says.

“You needed help.” Arthur shrugs.

“So is the whole sword in the stone thing is something you made up too?” Gwen asks.

Merlin looks very sheepish. “Yes,” he quietly admits. He suddenly sits up and says, “But you have to admit, it’s a bloody good story!”

Guinevere and Arthur laugh, and Gwen leans over to kiss Merlin. “It is. And I suppose you thought it was a better tale than the king receiving his famous sword from his mistress.”

“Yeah. But I’m sure you’ll make it a great story,” Merlin responds, checking the time. “We probably should go find you some dinner soon,” he says.

“It’s only 11:30,” Gwen says. “We’ll work till midnight, then go to the club, all right?”

“All right,” Merlin agrees. He lies back down, his head returning to Gwen’s leg, his long legs dangling over the arm of the sofa. “So Gwenhwyfar had to contrive a way to get her father to make an amazing sword without giving away why…”

xXx

“Princess Gwen!”

Guinevere turns and sees her very first meal, Gwaine, pushing his way through the crowd towards her. She looks around and sees Merlin and Arthur in deep conversation. They’ve been pondering the nature of Cenred Jones’ visit since she gave them his business card last week. He’s come to the club two more times, including tonight, and has missed them. Percival said that he always welcomes him in, but he always declines once he learns the owners are not present.

Clearly he is interested in more than making a social call.

“Gwaine, right?” Guinevere asks, smiling as he reaches her.

“Bloody hell, you look gorgeous,” he says. “Is it possible you’ve gotten more beautiful since I last saw you?”

She shrugs. “I guess it could be,” she replies, returning his smile. Unlike most of her victims, she finds she actually  _ likes _ Gwaine. He’s charming, but not in a contrived way. He also seems to be respectful, open-minded, and fairly intelligent.

The type of guy her former self could have easily fallen for, had she never met Arthur and Merlin.

“I’ve been hoping to see you here again,” he says, leaning in close. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he adds, his lips almost touching her ear, but not quite.

In fact, Gwen realizes he hasn’t touched her at all. He’s waiting for her to give him permission.  _ Well, Merlin regularly snacks on Mordred, so why can’t I do the same with Gwaine? _ Satisfied with her justification, she raises her hand and places it on his chest.

“I’ve been around,” she says. “We must just keep missing each other.”

“Pity,” he replies, placing his hand over hers. The music changes to a slow song. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’ve got a better idea,” she answers, turning her hand to take his. She tugs him towards the private room in the back.

“Where are we going?” he asks, then, “Oh. How…?”

“I’m part owner,” she explains, closing the door behind them.

“Oh,” he exclaims, sounding impressed. “You didn’t tell me that before.”

“That’s because I wasn’t one before,” she replies with a smile. “Sit.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He sits on the couch, and she joins him. She is wearing a strapless dress with a short, flowing skirt that gives her enough flexibility to straddle his lap.

“Mmm,” Gwaine appreciatively hums, his hands immediately landing on her thighs. “You are… truly amazing, Princess.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she replies, then leans forward and kisses him. After about a minute, she can tell he is becoming rather dazed and euphoric, and she begins moving towards his neck.

Then the door opens.

“Oh! Sorry, Gwen,” Merlin yelps, interrupting Arthur mid-sentence.

Guinevere simply sits upright and turns to smile at her two men. “Hello, Loves,” she says.

“We’ll just—”

“Stick around and watch,” Arthur interjects, pushing Merlin inside. He closes – and locks – the door.

“Kinky,” Gwaine murmurs. He sounds slightly drunk.

“Gwaine, Poppet,” Gwen says, and his glassy eyes focus on her. “This is Merlin and Arthur,” she introduces them, pointing at each in turn. “They’re my partners. Say hello, Darling.”

“Hello, Darling,” Gwaine obediently replies, and the other two wave, amused. “Partners?” he asks, blinking and shaking his head slightly, trying to clear it.

She leans down and kisses him again. “In every sense of the word,” she whispers.

“Okay,” Gwaine says, once again in her thrall. “Come here,” he growls, guiding her lips back to his. “They want something to watch,” he murmurs against her lips.

They kiss and grope for a short time, and just as Guinevere is ready to feast again, Arthur speaks.

“Fuck him, Guinevere,” he declares, cool as can be.

“What?” she asks, surprised.

“We want to watch you fuck him,” Merlin clarifies.

“Is that all right with you?” she asks Gwaine, licking the side of his neck.

“Princess, you can do whatever you want to me and I’ll thank you for it after,” he breathily answers.

Merlin and Arthur’s soft laughter sounds behind her, and she scoots back on Gwaine’s lap to open his trousers. She is not surprised to find him fully erect and ready, since she’s been grinding against him for the past five minutes.

“Nice,” she declares, sliding her cool hand over his shaft.

“Ohhh your hand is cold,” Gwaine groans.

“You’ll have to help me warm it up,” she purrs, pushing the top of her dress down, exposing her breasts to him.

“Bloody hell,” Gwaine softly curses, leaning his head forward to pay homage.

Behind her, Gwen hears appreciative murmurings from Arthur and Merlin. She peeks over her shoulder and sees them watching with rapt attention. Slyly smiling, she takes one of Gwaine’s hands and guides it up under her skirt.

He wordlessly grunts in surprise when his hand reaches its target, then lifts his head. “No knickers?” he gasps.

She kisses him deeply, but briefly, and whispers, “Nope.”

_ Can’t see. _ Merlin’s voice sounds in her head, reminding her that watching her bounce up and down on Gwaine’s lap with her skirt pooled around them is going to look like little more than… her bouncing up and down on Gwaine’s lap. She releases Gwaine’s cock and quickly tucks the skirt up inside the top of the dress, making it look like a bunched-up mass of flowered fabric around her middle.

_ Thank you, Love. _ Arthur’s voice this time.

“Are you ready?” she whispers to Gwaine, beginning to squirm on his skillful fingers.

“God, yes,” he answers, nearly delirious.

She lifts up on her knees and guides him into her.

“Fuuuuck,” Gwaine curses, thrusting his hip up into her. “Oh… should we have… used a condom?” he manages, barely able to think, much less speak.

“I’m safe,” she assures him, taking his hands and guiding them to her breasts.

Watching, Arthur says to Merlin, “I wonder if her…  _ other _ fluids have the same effect as our saliva?”

“Certainly looks that way,” Merlin observes. He leans forward, watching with bald interest as Gwen undulates seductively over Gwaine, the round globes of her backside bouncing hypnotically on his thighs. Merlin then switches his attention to Gwaine, watching carefully. _Now, Gwen,_ he thinks, projecting his thought to her.

She pulls Gwaine’s head up from her breasts, pushes it back against the couch, and sinks her teeth into his neck.

A few seconds later, Gwaine comes with a loud cry that is almost a sob, and his hands clutch Gwen’s backside. Two more jerking thrusts and Gwen tears her lips away from Gwaine’s neck and cries out as well.

She looks down at him and sees that he has passed out.

“Overcome,” she says, delicately extracting herself from his lap. “Poor Poppet.”

“He’s way into you, Love,” Merlin says, looking worried.

“I know. I’m being careful,” she says, adjusting her dress.

“No knickers?” Arthur echoes Gwaine’s earlier question, motioning her over to him.

She shrugs, walking over. “I haven’t worn them since you changed me,” she says. “I don’t know why. I guess they just started seeming… unnecessary. Plus it’s kind of fun. It’s like I’m being secretly naughty.” Arthur begins helping her get her dress sorted out. “Thank you,” she says, kissing him.

“You taste like him,” Arthur says, then kisses her longer. “He _is_ tasty,” he assesses, giving the still-unconscious Gwaine a sideways look before kissing her once more.

“So what do we do with him?” Guinevere asks, looking at Merlin.

“He’ll be fine here,” he answers. He walks over and carefully adjusts Gwaine’s trousers, tucking everything back in. He can’t get the fly closed, so he simply pulls Gwaine’s shirt down far enough to cover. “Leave him a note if you like.”

“All right,” Guinevere says. She takes a napkin and finds a pen, then writes, _It was fun. Sorry I had to leave. See you around. -G._

Arthur reads the note. “‘See you around’? That’s it?” he asks.

She looks at him. “What would you have me write? I don’t want him to get attached… though it may be a little late for that… and besides, I love  _ you  _ two, not him. I like him fine, but my heart belongs only to you. And you.”

“Her note is fine, Clotpole,” Merlin says. “God, you’re weird sometimes,” he adds, shaking his head.

“What?” Arthur asks, nonplussed.

Merlin simply shakes his head again while Guinevere laughs, leaning on his shoulder. He turns his head and kisses her temple. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes,” she says. “Did you two eat?” she asks, sliding her hands into theirs.

“Couldn’t find anyone interesting,” Arthur answers while Merlin shakes his head.

“We’re fine,” Merlin assures her. “Besides, if we had eaten, our little spectator sport might have turned into a group activity.”

Arthur raises an intrigued eyebrow while Guinevere thoughtfully cocks her head to the side.

“Perhaps another time,” Merlin laughs.


	7. Chapter 7

“Arthur, that’s your phone,” Guinevere says, pulling her lips away from his.

“I know,” Arthur replies, undeterred.

“Arthur,” she repeats, pushing his chest. “It could be Merlin.”

He sighs and nods. Merlin had stayed home tonight, wanting to be alone. After Arthur and Guinevere left, Arthur explained that tonight is the anniversary of the death of a woman Merlin had loved, a Druid girl called Freya whom he met several years after leaving Camelot. Arthur doesn’t know all the details of her death, only that she died before Merlin could save or change her. “She must not have been with him at the time,” Arthur reasoned. “Whoever or whatever killed her would never have gotten past him.” Since then, Merlin has always taken this night to himself.

Arthur picks up his phone. “It’s Percival,” he says, surprised “He wants us to come out front.”

Gwen leans over and reads the text. “I’ll wager Mr. Cenred Jones has darkened our doorstep,” she says.

“You think so?” he asks, clearly not convinced. “Well, let’s go find out, shall we?”

She takes his hand and they walk through the club. She looks around as they walk, still looking for her nightly meal. She still needs to eat every day, but she no longer gets headaches if she waits too long, which makes her happy.

As they near the door, Guinevere smiles. “I told you,” she says, leaning up to speak in Arthur’s ear.

“Which one?”

“Dark haired bloke who looks like he’s wearing eyeliner. In the charcoal Armani,” she explains.

“He looks like a male prostitute,” he replies, and Gwen laughs.

“Well, this is a surprise,” Cenred says as they approach, his eyes on Guinevere. “I didn’t realize my naughty little librarian was yours,” he adds with a smile as he turns his attention towards Arthur. “Cenred Jones.” He extends his hand.

Arthur shakes it. “Arthur Pendragon. You obviously remember Guinevere,” he says.

Cenred holds out his hand and Guinevere places hers in it, smiling politely as he kisses it. “She is quite unforgettable, isn’t she?” he smoothly says. “I presume you have a private room somewhere in this charming establishment where we can go and have a bit of polite conversation?”

“Of course,” Gwen answers, looking up at Arthur.

“Would you care for a drink, Mr. Jones?” Arthur asks, leading them back. “On the house, of course.”

“How very generous of you,” Cenred answers. “And if a very dry vodka martini garnished with a pearl onion wouldn’t be too much trouble, I would be most grateful.”

“Mordred makes the best martinis in town,” Arthur says as they pause at the bar. He leans over and gives the order to them before continuing back to their private room.

“I must say you are a difficult man to track down,” Cenred says once they are inside.

Arthur and Guinevere sit on the sofa, his hand on her knee, while Cenred sits in an upholstered leather armchair. “We don’t keep to much of a set schedule, I’m afraid,” Arthur answers. “With what can we help you?”

“Ah, right to business then, all right,” Cenred replies. “I—”

There is a knock at the door, which Guinevere goes to answer. She is very aware of two sets of eyes watching her walk away from them, and almost starts laughing. “Thank you, Darling,” she says to Mordred, gives them a kiss on the cheek, then turns to deliver Cenred’s drink.

“Your bartender is… unique,” Cenred observes. “Thank you, Love,” he says to Guinevere.

“Mordred is an amazing bartender and a lovely person as well,” she replies.

“Yes, he… she…” Cenred furrows his brows.

“Mordred prefers ‘they’,” Arthur casually explains.

“Ah. Well.” Cenred clears his throat and takes a sip of his drink. “Bloody hell, you weren’t joking,” he declares, taking another sip.

“You can’t have them,” Guinevere says.

“Interesting that you think I may be here to poach your prize employee,” Cenred says. “When in fact, I am interested in purchasing your entire establishment.”

Arthur’s expression remains neutral. “Is that so?”

“It is. You have a prime location, and I want it.”

Guinevere squeezes Arthur’s hand and he gives her a reassuring look. “Have you brought us an offer?”

“Not yet,” Cenred breezily answers. “I merely wished to make my intentions known and gauge your willingness to sell before drafting up any paperwork.”

“That makes sense,” Arthur replies. “Unfortunately, our third partner is indisposed for the evening, so we cannot give you an answer either way at the moment. Nor would we be able to answer tonight even if he was here. This is not a decision to be taken lightly.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” Cenred agrees. He thoughtfully nods. “You have shrewd business sense, Mr. Pendragon. I respect that.”

 _Great. Because I was_ so _worried about having your respect._

Arthur’s projected thought makes Guinevere’s lips twitch as she tries not to laugh.

“We will discuss it and let you know. We have your card,” Arthur answers.

Cenred finishes his drink. “If I do not hear from you by this time next week, I will be calling on you again,” he says, idly swirling the onion around the bottom of his glass. “You’ll find I am quite persistent.”

“You will hear from us,” Arthur assures him.

Cenred nods, then says, “My dear Gwen, I must say I’m a trifle wounded you were keeping this little secret from me.”

“What secret?” Guinevere asks.

“You did not tell me you were part owner of this club,” he explains.

She smiles, blinks twice, and sweetly says, “You never asked me what I do.”

Now it is Arthur’s turn to stifle his laughter.

“Yes, and you quite literally snogged me senseless and then deserted me,” Cenred returns. “There was precious little time for conversation.”

“You were not interested in me for my conversation,” Gwen replies.

Cenred pops the onion in his mouth, chews, and swallows, then tactfully redirects, saying, “So… I presume the missing third owner is your other lover then?”

“You presume correctly,” Guinevere answers.

“And you have no issue sharing this lovely creature with another man, if I may pry?” Cenred asks.

Arthur shrugs one shoulder. “Well, she has no issue sharing _me_ with the same other man, nor him with me.”

Cenred opens his mouth, then closes it again, dumbstruck.

Guinevere chuckles and stands, followed by Arthur. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have another important matter to attend.”

“Of course, my love,” Arthur says with a nod, then kisses her quickly but quite soundly.

“Off to powder your nose then?” Cenred calls after her, thinking he is being playful.

Gwen stops, turns her head, and says over her shoulder, “I’m off to snog someone senseless and then desert them.”

Cenred’s jaw drops while Arthur laughs, dropping back down onto the sofa.

“Where on earth did you find her and how do I get one?” Cenred asks Arthur.

xXx

Guinevere and Arthur come tumbling back into their house an hour later, kissing and laughing and shushing each other, not wanting to disturb Merlin.

“Your room,” Guinevere says.

“Good call,” Arthur agrees, knowing Gwen’s room between his and Merlin’s will keep any noise they make from disturbing Merlin.

He stops her on the stairs, turning her towards him. He kisses her again, running his hands up and down her body. She is standing on the next step, so their faces are about level with each other. “I want you so much,” Arthur murmurs, his hands creeping up under the short skirt of her dress.

“Did you eat?” she asks, her voice breathy.

“Of course,” he answers. “Took a bite out of Cenred while you were away.”

She pulls away and looks at him, eyes wide. “You did not!”

“Shh,” he softly shushes her, then quickly ushers her the rest of the way up the stairs and into his room. “I did so,” he insists, closing the door.

“You do like a challenge,” she says, still laughing.

“He never knew what hit him,” Arthur lightly says. “I had him in my thrall so quickly that I’m now wondering if he’s not straight.” He cups her face in his hands and deeply kisses her. “Wonder if he even knows,” he muses, a devilish smile gracing his lips.

“You’re terrible,” Guinevere replies, sliding her hands down his chest and tugging his shirt, un-tucking it.

“I’m just calling things as I see them,” he answers, pulling his shirt off. “And who was your dinner this evening? One of the numerous college blokes crawling around the place tonight?”

She snorts, sliding her hand into his opened trousers, making him groan. “They weren’t interested in me. I’m too old for them,” she answers.

“You look like you’re 20 at the most,” he points out, pulling at her dress until she removes her hand from his pants so he can pull it over her head.

“All right, _they_ were too young for _me,_ ” she amends, returning her attention to his trousers, helping him remove them. “In any case, I found a lovely young woman on which to dine.”

He gives her a surprised look. “A woman?”

“Thought I’d give it a try,” she answers with a shrug. “She was very sweet. Her—” she breaks off with a yelp as Arthur wraps his arms around her and falls back onto the bed. “Her name is Sefa, and she’s a sous chef at… some restaurant I can’t recall.”

“Mmm,” Arthur replies, then he rolls them so she is under him. He quickly busies himself placing wet, sucking kisses on Guinevere’s breasts.

“You’re not listening to me,” she remarks, but she’s not upset.

“No, I’m not,” he admits, then draws her nipple into his mouth just as his fingers find the warm wetness between her legs.

“Ohhhh… I forgive you,” she sighs, writhing under his attention. “Oh, you’re really good at that,” she gasps.

“I know your body as well as my own, my love,” he murmurs against her skin, then proves his point by pressing a sucking kiss to the ridge of her collarbone, a spot that always draws a favorable response.

“Mmm,” she hums, her fingers sliding through the strands of his hair. “What do I want now?” she asks.

He lifts up over her, kisses her lips, then easily slides his cock into her. “This,” he answers.

“Smug,” she manages, but the arch of her back and sting of her fingernails belies her word. As does her next pronouncement. “More,” she urges, tilting her hips against him when he slowly thrusts forward again.

He chuckles and does as he has been bidden, pulling back and driving back in with more effort.

Guinevere softly grunts and wraps her legs around Arthur’s waist, encouraging him.

He needs very little encouragement, moving over her, with her, as one being, connected physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“Arthur!” she suddenly exclaims, a breathy rasp, as her orgasm overtakes her. She tightens her hold on him, but it doesn’t prevent him from thrusting two more times before he comes tumbling after her.

He buries his face in her neck, his body still as he rides out his climax.

"I love you,” he finally sighs, slumping over her, kissing wherever his lips can reach.

"I love you, too, Arthur,” she answers, tenderly wrapping her arms around him.

After another minute, they roll, disengaging, and cuddle against one another. A quick glance at the clock confirms Guinevere’s suspicions about how tired she is, and she closes her eyes.

"Can I sleep here?” she mutters.

"Of course, Love,” he answers, kissing her forehead. “You never need to ask.”

"Are you staying or do you have things to do?”

"I’ll stay until you fall asleep, but I want to check on Merlin,” he answers. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” They quickly learned that she hates waking up alone.

"Mmkay,” she mumbles, barely coherent.

xXx

When Guinevere wakes the next night, she is curled against Arthur’s chest. As she slowly begins to stretch, she feels a solid, slender form behind her than can only be Merlin. She gropes back with one hand and pats his hip.

“I missed you,” she quietly says.

Merlin presses a kiss to her shoulder. “I missed you, too.”

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yes. Thank you for asking,” he replies.

“Will you tell me about her one day?” she asks.

Merlin is quiet for a long moment. “One day,” he answers.


	8. Chapter 8

“We need to give him an answer,” Arthur presses. “It has been nearly a week; I can’t put him off too much longer.”

Merlin sighs. “I know, I know. I know. I’m still… It’s just… is it time already?”

“Time for what?” Guinevere asks, looking between the two men as they are seated in their living room, discussing the proposal from Cenred.

“Love, we can’t stay in one place for an extended period of time or people start getting suspicious,” Arthur explains. “We don’t age, remember?”

“Oh,” she softly exclaims. “I guess I hadn’t thought about that. How long have you been here?”

“Nearly seven years,” Arthur says.

“It’s not time,” Merlin interjects. He looks at Gwen. “Normally we stay about ten years.”

“Opportunity has presented itself, Merlin,” Arthur points out.

“Look, why are you so keen to move?”

“Why are you so keen to stay?”

“Gentlemen!” Guinevere nearly yells, standing. “What does Elyan say about the offer?”

“It’s not really an offer yet,” Merlin quietly says. When Gwen gives him a look, he sighs. “He thinks we should take it.”

“And…” Arthur prompts.

“ _And_ he has a lead on a place in Switzerland that is perfect for us,” Merlin adds.

Guinevere gasps. “Switzerland, oh…” She sits. “Is it in the mountains? Please tell me it’s in the mountains and I can run outside with my arms extended and spin around like Fräulein Maria,” she excitedly says.

“It is,” Merlin answers, perking up a little. Arthur smiles, knowing that if Guinevere wants to go, Merlin will acquiesce.

“Merlin, why are you so reluctant to leave?” Guinevere gently asks, reaching out for his hand.

“I always am when I’m here,” he answers. “England is my favorite place.”

“This is my first time back here since I was changed,” Arthur explains. “He says he comes here every hundred years or so, and it’s always difficult for him to leave.”

“This is your home, too, though,” she says to Arthur.

He lightly shrugs. “I don’t have the same attachment to the land that he has.”

“Druid thing,” Merlin offers.

“Oh, I see,” Guinevere replies with a nod.

“What do you think, Love?” Arthur asks.

“I’ve never been anywhere, so…” she leaves her answer hanging.

“We should at least entertain the proposal. Find out _exactly_ how badly he wants the club,” Arthur says, a crafty grin spreading across his face.

“This is his favorite thing,” Merlin explains to Gwen. “He loves negotiating business deals.”

“Isn’t that why we have Elyan?” she asks.

“Well yes, but _he_ works for _us_ ,” Arthur answers. “I handle these parts of deals like this, and he takes care of the mundane details.”

“Among other things,” Merlin supplies.

“Yes, he does do a great deal for us,” Arthur agrees. “But I love doing things like this,” he says with a grin.

“Comes by it naturally. Apparently his father was quite the business tycoon back in the day,” Merlin explains. “Parts of this particular apple do not fall far from that tree.”

“And other parts aren’t even in the same time zone,” Arthur adds with a laugh.

Guinevere nods, smiling, happy they are not arguing anymore.

“So, should I contact Mr. Cenred Jones and tell him we are willing to discuss matters?” Arthur asks.

Merlin looks at Guinevere, then down at their still-joined hands. He lifts them and kisses her hand. “Yes.”

Gwen smiles broadly as Arthur takes out his mobile, grinning like a predator who has just found some juicy new prey.

“Let’s go to the club and have a bite to eat,” he declares, standing and pocketing his phone.

xXx

The club is not terribly crowded. Tuesday nights are generally slow, so the trio are not troubled by the light turnout.

“Your favorite snack is here,” Arthur comments, nodding to his right, where Gwaine is making a beeline for them.

“Oh good. I wasn’t in the mood to play find-the-meal,” Guinevere replies. “Hello, Poppet,” she greets him, offering her cheek for him to kiss. He leans over and gives her an uncharacteristically short, chaste peck on the cheek. “Is everything all right?” she asks, stepping away from the other two.

“Um, yeah,” Gwaine replies. “Can we go…?”

“Of course,” she says, reaching for his hand. He somehow avoids it and leads the way to the back room.

Guinevere closes the door, and when she turns around, she is surprised to see him quite a distance away. She had been expecting him to immediately pounce.

“What are you?” Gwaine’s question is direct.

She stares at him, unprepared for this. Here she was, intending to have a little snack, but he is keeping away from her, his brown eyes clearer and more intelligent than she was anticipating. “Excuse me?” she asks.

“I always said there was something about you, Princess,” he continues, “and I’ve seen you with others and have seen the effect you have on them. Arthur and Merlin, too.” He steps forward, reaching for her, then remembers himself and drops his hands. “When we fool around, you leave me delirious, feeling like I’m drunk though I haven’t had enough alcohol to make me feel that way. And the one time we shagged I bloody well blacked out. That’s not normal.”

Gwen is speechless, caught completely unawares. _Merlin!_ She mentally calls out for help. They stare at each other for a moment, at a small impasse. “You’re right. We aren’t normal,” she finally admits, breaking the silence. She instinctively knows she can’t lie to him.

“So what is it then?” he asks. “What special… gift… do you three have that keeps people in your thrall? Some sort of special roofie you slip into all the drinks here?”

“No!” she exclaims, horrified. “We wouldn’t do that! That’s deplorable, not to mention illegal.”

He nods. “Okay, but there’s something. All I know is I can’t stop thinking about you… I barely know you, but I know I want to be with you all the time, and—”

“No,” Gwen says, cutting him off. “Please, stop,” she says, her voice shaky as she raises her hand.

“I even bought your book. It was amazing,” he quietly adds.

“Thank you, but… Gwaine. You don’t love me, and… I can’t give you what you think you need. Emotionally.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, finally stepping towards her.

“I like you, but my heart can never be yours, Gwaine. It belongs to Arthur and Merlin. Completely,” she answers, hesitantly resting her hand on his chest. _MERLIN!!_ She tries again.

xXx

Merlin’s head snaps up. _That is definitely her_. He thought he heard Guinevere calling a few minutes earlier, but was distracted by Mordred in their midriff-baring top and low-slung skinny trousers. He quickly kisses the young bartender, then says, “Gwen needs me, Pet,” before leaving them, slightly confused, in the storeroom.

He quickly finds Arthur, who has his head buried in the neck of a lovely Indian woman. From the looks of her, he’s about done, but Merlin taps him on the back of the head anyway.

Arthur releases her, sighs, and turns around. “What?”

“Gwen needs us.”

Arthur needs no further prompting, immediately abandoning his dinner to join Merlin. The two of them walk to the back room.

“You called?” Merlin asks, entering.

“Merlin, thank God,” Gwen sighs.

Merlin raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into an amused smirk. “Which one?” he quips. When she doesn’t smile, his demeanor changes. “What’s wrong, Love?” he tenderly asks.

“I want you to make me like you,” Gwaine speaks up.

“Like us?” Arthur carefully asks, walking towards him. “And what are we like?” he asks, angling his head at him.

“I… I don’t know,” Gwaine admits. “All I know is you three have something _unique_ going on, and I want in on it.”

Merlin slowly nods. “I see why you wanted our help,” he says to Gwen, who is wringing her hands.

“I’m sorry, Merlin, I… you warned me, and I _thought_ I was being careful, and…”

“Gwen,” Merlin interjects, pulling her into his arms. “It’s all right; it happens,” he whispers into her hair. “He’s very smart.” He glances over the top of Gwen’s head and fixes his gaze on Gwaine. “But he intentionally hides how smart he is.”

“How do you know that?” Gwaine asks.

Merlin kisses Gwen’s forehead and releases her. Arthur takes his place, wrapping his arms around her, holding her from behind.

“I know lots of things,” Merlin answers. “And you don’t want to be like us. You want the power we have, Gwaine Alastair McIntosh. And you want Guinevere.”

“I— how did you— yes, I do,” Gwaine stammers. “You can read minds,” he whispers. “That’s how you knew Gwen needed you. Bloody hell.”

“It’s more than that,” Arthur supplies.

“Well, what _is_ it? Why do her kisses make me forget my name?” Gwaine asks, raising his voice.

“We’re vampires,” Merlin simply states, as casually as if they were discussing the weather.

Gwaine blinks once, then slowly nods. “Actually… that makes perfect sense,” he quite reasonably says.

“It does?” Gwen blurts, not expecting him to so quickly accept the truth as truth.

“Well, yeah,” he answers. “You’re only here sometimes, you’re all ridiculously beautiful, I never see you _anywhere_ during the day – and I’ve tried, believe me – you don’t drink, you don’t eat…” he trails off. “Do I need to keep going?”

“No,” Gwen whispers.

“So… you have to make me like you now, right? Because I know your secret?” Gwaine hopefully says, getting back to the topic at hand.

“No,” Merlin says.

Gwaine’s shoulders slump. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Won’t,” Merlin tells him. “Come, sit,” he guides him over to the sofa. “You have a life, Gwaine. You have a career, a family… people who will miss you.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Now you see. Arthur was on the brink of death when I changed him. Guinevere… well, we fell in love with her, so that was a bit of selfishness on our parts. But she happens to be self-employed and has no living family. You have parents, sisters…” Merlin pauses, furrowing his brow. “A… son?”

Gwaine looks down, suddenly realizing the massive size of his impulsive folly. “He’s four. I don’t get to see him as much as I would like…”

“And if I changed you, you wouldn’t get to see him _at all,_ ” Merlin gently says. He reaches over and puts his hand over Gwaine’s. “You are talented, Gwaine. Your art will get noticed soon, and you won’t be struggling any more, I promise.”

Gwaine looks up, surprised. “It will?”

Merlin nods. “It will.”

Gwaine purses his lips, then asks, “What are you going to to do me?”

“What do you mean?” Merlin replies, confused.

“Well, I _know_. Are you… I mean, are you just going to let me go, knowing what I know?”

“Do I have your solemn vow to _keep_ our secret?” Merlin asks.

“Absolutely,” Gwaine says, crossing his heart with his free hand.

“I’ll know if you break this vow,” Merlin warns, and Gwaine immediately nods, a little afraid of this strange man.

“And you need to stay away from Guinevere,” Arthur chimes in. “I’m not saying this out of jealousy; it’s for the best, I think.”

“I agree,” Merlin says. “Sorry, Gwen, I know he was your favorite snack.”

“I know. It is for the best,” Gwen concurs, leaning against Arthur.

“Could you… _could_ you, like, _erase_ my memory if you wanted?” Gwaine asks, peering at Merlin.

Merlin simply raises an eyebrow.

 _Can he do that?_ Gwen silently asks Arthur.

 _I don’t think so, but Gwaine doesn’t need to know that._ Arthur turns his head and kisses her forehead.

“Can I ask one more question?” Gwaine asks after a moment.

“Of course,” Merlin answers.

“Are you lot, like, the _original_ Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin?” he asks.

Merlin chuckles. “Not exactly.”

“Not entirely,” Arthur adds with a smirk.

Gwaine looks over at him and Guinevere, then back to Merlin.

“Cabbage Head,” Merlin shoots at Arthur, who blows him a kiss in reply. “Fine. _I_ am. They aren’t. Their names are just a bizarre coincidence.”

Gwaine stares at Merlin. “That explains a lot about you, mate. So you’re… over a thousand years old then?”

“More like over 1500,” Merlin says with a sigh.

“And you?” he asks Arthur.

“I’m 126,” Arthur answers. “Guinevere is only 25. She’s only been a vampire for a couple of months.”

“Well, she’s very good at it,” Gwaine replies with a chuckle.

“Thanks?” Guinevere answers, still reeling from this entire conversation.

“Look, Gwaine, it’ll be easier than you think, mate,” Arthur says.

“Arthur…”

“ _Merlin_ ,” he counters, giving him an exasperated look. “We’re going to be leaving soon.”

“Leaving? Like _leaving_ leaving?” Gwaine asks.

“Yes, Poppet. We’re going to be moving out of the country. So you won’t have to worry about running into me if you still want to come here,” Guinevere says.

“Where are you going?” Gwaine asks.

“It’s best we not say,” Merlin quickly answers, and Arthur nods.

“Probably,” Gwains sighs. “What’s going to happen to this place?”

“We’ve just started negotiations with Cenred Jones,” Arthur says.

“Ugh, that wanker. I guess I won’t have to worry about wanting to come here anymore,” he replies with a chuckle. “His club is loud and pretentious.”

Arthur snorts a laugh. “We’ve learned not to get too sentimental about or attached to our business ventures,” he says. “Such is the life of a transient vampire.”

“Well, I’ll miss this place, and I’ll miss you. All three of you, actually,” Gwaine says. Then he steps forward, takes Guinevere’s hand in his, and lifts it to his lips for one final kiss. “Take care of my princess,” he tells Arthur and Merlin, then walks out the door.

“I was going to ask if I could have him one more time, but I decided that probably wouldn’t be wise,” Guinevere says.

“Good call,” Arthur responds. “Merlin, what are you doing?” he asks, seeing Merlin furiously texting on his mobile.

“I’m sending a message to Alator. Having him look into Gwaine’s art,” Merlin explains.

Gwen tilts her head at him. “So that whole thing about his art getting noticed was…”

“It was bollocks. But I have to make good on my prophecy, don’t I? I was able to see enough into the man’s head to know his work _is_ good, but Alator has the means to make him a success,” Merlin says.

“Self-fulfilling prophecy then,” she replies with a chuckle. Then her laughter abruptly stops, and she plops down on the couch. “Ugh, now I need to find myself some dinner.”

“If you’re not in the mood, there’s always the mini fridge in the office,” Merlin offers.

She makes a face. “No thanks.”


	9. Chapter 9

Guinevere tugs at the scarf binding her hands to the headboard of the bed, testing the hold. “Good,” she says.

“Not too tight?” Merlin asks, leaning over her with another scarf.

“No,” she answers.

“Not too uncomfortable?” Arthur asks, concern etched on his handsome face.

“I’m fine,” she assures him. “You were the one who suggested this game, remember?”

Merlin carefully ties the second scarf around her head, blindfolding her with it.

“Well, I suggested the blindfold. It was Merlin who decided your hands should also be bound,” Arthur replies.

“And I agreed,” she points out.

“If she can touch, she could cheat,” Merlin reminds him.

“I trust her,” Arthur says.

“I don’t,” Guinevere responds with a laugh. “Now come on. I’m getting antsy here.”

Merlin and Arthur both move away from the bed, so she doesn’t know where they are.

_ God, she is so beautiful _ , Merlin thinks.

_ I know. How did we get so lucky? _ Arthur replies.

“I can hear you,” Gwen says.

_ Wasn’t trying to hide it, Love. But if we speak you can hear where we are, _ Merlin explains.

She sighs, growing tired of waiting.

Finally, a pair of lips settles over hers, somewhat sideways, but still kissing her deeply.

“Arthur,” she sighs once he pulls away.

“Very good,” he declares, then disappears.

A short time later, a pair of lips closes over a nipple, kissing, licking, and sucking.

“Still Arthur,” she declares, arching her back, eager for more contact.

A hand trails up her inner thigh, coming close but not quite touching her center.

“There’s Merlin,” Guinevere says. “Tease.”

Someone kisses her again.

“That was Arthur trying to kiss like Merlin,” she says with a laugh.

“Bugger,” Arthur curses, and Merlin laughs. “You’re bloody good at this.”

“I told you I would be,” she answers.

She feels lips at her neck and stomach, both kissing at the same time.

“Merlin is at my neck…” she stops with a yelp. “Arthur! That tickles!”

They move, each taking a breast in a hand.

“Arthur on my right,” she sighs.

“I’m doing exactly what he’s doing!” Arthur exclaims, and they both pull away.

“Your hands are completely different,” she explains. “More… do more.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” Merlin asks, amused.

“Mmm-hmm,” she answers, then sighs when she feels their mouths descend on her breasts. “You switched sides,” she pronounces after a moment. “I have to stop guessing so quickly,” she adds, realizing that every time she guesses who it is, they stop.

She feels a pair of shoulders nudge in between her legs, and immediately knows it’s Merlin just from his build. She keeps quiet, indulging herself in a solid minute of his tongue sliding and circling before she moans his name. “Merlin…”

He moves away, and nothing happens for a bit longer than before. She listens.

“Are you lot kissing each _other_?” she asks.

“Can’t help it, Love. You are delicious on his lips,” Arthur says. “Plus it would give him away, so now we both smell like you.”

“You could have just picked up where he left off,” she points out, suggestively writhing her hips.

“But you would immediately know it was me,” he counters, but slides between her legs anyway, unable to deny her.

“I would anyway,” she replies. “I knew it was Merlin before his tongue even—ohhh…”

“You did?” Merlin asks.

“Yeah,” she gasps as Arthur happily pleasures her with his tongue. “Your shoulders are more… oh… slender…” She mewls in disappointment when he withdraws. “So close, you bastard.”

She hears his devilish chuckle, then hears a strange soft scratching sound.

“Are you writing?” she asks.

“Yep,” Arthur answers, and she realizes they are trying to communicate without her hearing anything.

Just when she is about to complain about being neglected again, someone straddles her head.

“Really?” she asks, laughing, but opens her mouth nevertheless, and is rewarded with a cock sliding inside. “Mmm,” she hums, moving her head as he thrusts over her. She is just about to attempt to pull back and declare who it is – Merlin – when Arthur moves between her legs and slides into her. All she can do is whimper.

A couples seconds later, Merlin withdraws his cock. Gwen tilts her chin up and says, “Hello, Merlin,” in a breathy voice, as Arthur is still thrusting into her.

“Bloody hell, Gwen,” Merlin says, with a laugh. Then he reaches up and unties her hands. “I give up.”

“I… I told you…” she gasps, running her hands up his body since he is still straddling her. When he reaches for her blindfold, she grabs his wrist. “Leave it.”

“Mmm, kinky,” Merlin declares.

“Merlin,” Arthur calls, his voice somewhat strained.

“Right,” Merlin answers, then moves away. Arthur pulls out of her, bringing forth another noise of disappointment until Merlin replaces him between her legs.

“Okay, I can see the difference,” Arthur declares after a moment of watching Merlin, then drops on the bed beside Guinevere and kisses her.

She reaches down for his shaft, closing her hand around him. It is warm and slick, and she slides her hand up and down, taking advantage of the moisture still coating it.

Arthur curses, his head falling onto her shoulder.

“Merlin… more,” she moans. His motions are more fluid and slightly gentler than Arthur’s, and while that is what she is sometimes in the mood for, tonight they’ve gotten her so worked up she wants it a little rougher.

“Gwen… I’m going to…” Merlin grunts. He knew he wouldn’t last long at the pace she wants.

She tears her lips away from Arthur’s and says, “Come for me, Merlin.”

He groans and thrusts in deep, then stills as he floods his release into her. He relaxes, then leans over and kisses her knee before withdrawing. “Tag,” he says, tapping Arthur’s shoulder before sinking down beside Gwen.

Arthur gives her one more kiss, then returns between her legs, first reaching down to touch her, taking advantage of the extra wetness there as he brings her just to the edge. When she is panting and gasping and clutching Merlin’s head to her breast, Arthur drives into her.

She immediately explodes, crying out with her orgasm as she bucks under them. Arthur’s hands hold her hips steady enough for him to continue thrusting.

“Take the blindfold off,” Arthur grits out between clenched teeth. “I want to see your eyes.”

Merlin reaches up and removes the scarf from Guinevere’s eyes, and she blinks, the dim light of the room seeming unnaturally bright now. Once she can focus again, she meets Arthur’s gaze over the top of Merlin’s head.

He holds her hostage with his eyes, his intense stare boring into her until he finally finds his release with a massive groan.

Her fingers tighten in Merlin’s hair and she lightly tugs him from her breasts to her lips. “I love you,” she whispers to him between kisses.

“I love you, too,” he answers, then leaves to allow Arthur in from the other side.

“And I love you,” she tells Arthur, kissing him.

“I love you so much,” he replies, kisses her, then leans over her to kiss Merlin. “And I love you,” he says.

Merlin smiles, kisses him, and says, “I love you.” Then they both flop down onto Guinevere’s shoulders.

“Are you lads going to stay?” she asks, absently petting their hair. She’s beginning to feel heavy and distant, so she knows sunrise is approaching.

“I have round four of negotiations with your boyfriend today,” Arthur says.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Guinevere automatically replies, no longer able to keep her eyes open. “Merlin?”

“I’ve got a meeting with Elyan about a chateau in Switzerland,” he answers. “In the mountains,” he adds, kissing her ear.

“ Mmm,” she hums, then succumbs to her slumber.

xXx

“ What did you get him up to?” Merlin asks when he walks into their home office to find a very smug-looking Arthur leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head.

“ Just over one million,” Arthur answers.

Merlin’s eyebrows rise. “How much is ‘just’?”

“ Mr. Cenred Jones has agreed to purchase  _ Pulse _ from us for the tidy sum of  £ 1,250,000.00,” he says. “His agent is drawing up the paperwork right now.”

Merlin dashes over and plants a hard kiss on Arthur’s lips, almost knocking his chair backwards. “That’s  £500,000 more than we paid when we bought it!” he exclaims.

Arthur grins. “I told you those renovations would pay off,” he says.

“ I never doubted you,” Merlin replies.

“ How was the chateau?” Arthur asks.

“ Bloody hell, Arthur, it’s gorgeous,” he says. “Gwen’s going to love it.”

“ Do you have photos? Please tell me you have photos,” Arthur asks.

“ I do. But let’s wait until Gwen’s up so I can show you both,” Merlin answers.

Arthur nods. “Yes, I think she might become cross with us if you show it to me without her,” he says with a smirk

“ We don’t want a repeat of the last one,” Merlin agrees. “Do you have anything else to do today?”

“ Not until the paperwork is faxed from Cenred,” Arthur responds, already heading for the door.

“ Let’s go make a Gwen sandwich then,” Merlin says, following him out the door.

xXx

“ Oh, Merlin, it’s gorgeous! It looks like a… ski lodge! I love it!” Guinevere gushes, looking up at the screen displaying a large chateau set lakeside at the base of a mountain. Merlin has his laptop mirrored on the big screen of the television so they can all comfortably see. “And it’s on a lake  _ and _ in the mountains!”

Merlin smiles. “I thought it looked a might cliché, but somehow I knew you would love it,” he says.

“ It’s pretty twee,” Arthur declares, cocking his head at the image, “but I kind of fancy it.”

“ You like it because  _ she _ likes it,” Merlin shrewdly assesses.

“ You  _ picked _ it because  _ she _ would like it,” Arthur counters.

Merlin merely shrugs. “It has everything we need. Lots of rooms. A large cellar. Privacy.”

“ A little bird that shoots out of the top window marking the hour,” Arthur remarks, winking at Guinevere.

“ Arthur…” Merlin exasperatedly sighs.

“ Where is it exactly?” Arthur asks.

Merlin opens another window and brings up Google maps. “About… there,” he says, circling an area with the mouse pointer. “Just south of Lucerne, kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“ What will we do for income?” Guinevere asks.

Arthur shrugs. “Love, we don’t really  _ need _ to make any more income, remember?” he reminds her. “Sometimes we get bored and take on a project – like the club – but other times, we simply decide to be hermits for a while.”

“ And we’re close enough to a city that we will be able to feed without drawing attention,” Merlin adds.

“ I thought you didn’t like the term ‘feed’,” she says, smiling.

Merlin shrugs. “Lack of a better term sometimes,” he says. He clicks back over to the photo of the chateau. “I’ve got interior shots,” he adds.

“ Ooo!” Gwen exclaims, sitting up straighter while the two men fondly chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Did you tell Elyan to make an offer?” she asks, already mentally decorating.

“ We wanted to get your official approval, Love,” Merlin answers. “He says we shouldn’t worry about getting beaten out on it. I will send him a text tonight and he’ll send the offer first thing in the morning.”

She jumps up and hugs him. “Thank you,” she says, kissing his cheek, then lips.

“ You’re welcome,” he laughs.

“ What about me?” Arthur asks, exaggeratedly pouting.

“ And what did you do to deserve my thanks?” she asks.

“ I got Cenred up to £ 1,250,000.00,” he answers.

“ Bloody hell!” she exclaims. “So we’re really doing this then?” she asks. Arthur nods, and she flies into his arms and kisses him.

xXx  
One Year Later

“ Guinevere,” Arthur calls, standing on the large deck directly over the lake.  _ Guinevere! _ He calls out with his mind, his eyes scanning the surface of the water, which has a thin covering of ice on it.

A moment later, a dark head breaks the surface, and she laughingly pushes a chuck of ice out of her way. She waves at Arthur, and he smiles, then beckons to her.

She dives below the surface once more, then emerges right at the ladder extending down from the deck.

He walks over, towel in hand, watching with undisguised interest as she ascends the ladder and comes into view, her naked body shimmering with frigid water.

“ Is it time already?” she asks, allowing her to wrap the towel around her.

“ Yes. Sunrise is not far off. I’m surprised you don’t feel it,” he answers, ushering her inside.

“ I was having too much fun in the lake,” she answers. “I really love the fact that I never get cold. And also not actually needing to breathe is a nice perk as well.”

“ Did you eat any fish down there?” he asks.

“ A few,” she admits with a laugh. “Where is Merlin?”

“ Waiting in your room. He’s tired this morning,” Arthur answers as they climb the stairs.

“ Oh, so do I get you both all day then?” she asks, giving him a hopeful look.

“ Yes. We have no business needing tending, so we’ll both be at your side while you sleep,” he answers, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I know how much you love it when we stay.”

“ I do. I don’t know why; it’s not like we’re conscious or anything, but…” she unwinds the towel from her body and squeezes the water from her hair as best she can. “Comfy, Merlin?”

Merlin stretches his arms over his head, lacing his fingers behind, looking like he’s doing an impression of Arthur. “Will be soon,” he says. “Just waiting for the two of you.”

“ Our Guinevere’s been dining on fish blood this morning,” Arthur remarks, quickly removing his clothes. Gwen has already slipped in beside Merlin and is twisting her hair into a quick braid while they wait for Arthur to join them.

“ Ugh,” Merlin replies, making a face. “I hate fish blood.”

“ Really?” Gwen asks, surprised. “I didn’t find it too awful.”

“ It tastes fishy,” Merlin simply declares. Arthur and Guinevere laugh as Arthur finally climbs into bed. “Of course I didn’t much care for fish when I was a mortal,” he allows.

“ You didn’t make that connection until now? It’s been 1500 years, mate,” Arthur comments, giving him an incredulous look.

“ I’m supposed to remember  _ everything _ ?” Merlin counters.

“ Lads, this is fascinating and all, but how about you lot shut your gobs and we’ll have a cuddle?” Guinevere interjects.

They softly laugh and settle in, snuggling beside her.

“ You aren’t bored here, are you?” she quietly asks after a minute.

“ Not at all,” Merlin answers.

“ Nope,” Arthur agrees. “Why, are you?”

“ Not one bit,” she happily answers, surrendering once more to unconsciousness, secure with Arthur and Merlin beside her.


End file.
